The blood should have made her nauseous, should have twisted her stomach into a knot of rats’ tails. There was so much of it. It should have sent her into shock, curdled her insides. But she just stood there watching it drool off her fingers and beyond, where the remains of the bodies, now unrecognizable, were a blur of red amongst the forest greens and browns, delicately illuminated by the moon that had never been so complete and bright.
First Lines Contest 2018: Cassandra And they all fall down
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