The name Burassca was like a fire in the room. Rosa who stood behind number twenty three, started to feel tremors in her body. The shadow floating behind her only laughed at her discomfort. The room around her started to feel uncomfortable. Her memory lane went to the night of the revolt, the image of a little boy standing in front of her, Sloan Burassca.
Flashes of memory came to her head one by one, the flashes came by blurring the sounds around the room. Her eyes could not leave the face of the person in front of her. It was like a silent transparent movie playing on the back of her head and the trigger was in front of her.
Loud sounds and b****y corpses came to her mind. She dropped her head to the floor. Too many voices played in her head. Of all the noises, the clearest one was t
