Dylan scrubbed his shirt, desperately trying to wash the blood out. Most of it came off but there were too many stains to not look suspicious. He wished he had worn black. He stood in the empty bathroom at the skating rink, trying to think of a solution. His friends would be worried if he suddenly went home, if they weren’t already. The memory of what had transpired only moments ago, still replayed in his mind. He hated losing control and letting Crimson run free. He became reckless and sloppy. What if some had come in the alley? What if someone had called a guard? What if someone recognized him? Damn it, why hadn’t he’d gone on a hunt days ago, one properly planned, one discrete and quiet? Despite the distaste he felt, there was no denying the relief he felt. His entire body felt rejuvena
