He dipped his fingers into the liquid and brought it to his nose—the rusty smell of blood filled his senses and his heart fell into an icy cellar.
He stumbled to his feet and opened the door. The ghastly sight that met him made his stomach lurch.
He heaved, the image of their lifeless eyes bored into his mind and then he remembered those hooded figures he bumped into.
His blood grew cold at the thought of how close to death he was. If he hadn't left the room, he would suffer the same fate as them.
'Who did this? Are they trying to bring chaos to the whole City? Where is Madam Grace.' Dean's mind reeled; he had no idea how to handle this.
….
Meanwhile, Grace lay unconscious beside an alley entrance with the bus wreckage in front of her.
People passed her by without a second glance; no one offered help, their attention solely on who to rob next or guard theirs.
As time passed, the city's people grew bolder and more unhinged, as if their morals had vanished.
