I ran through a pitch-black, desolate alley, covered in blood. I ran with all my strength, trying to shake off the ridiculous fear in my heart. Then something suddenly grabbed my hand. I stared in shock at the wrinkled hand clutching my arm. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t break free. He was wearing a hat, so I couldn’t see his face. Under the dim, murky light, I recognized him. The “madman.”
“Thank you,” he said in a hoarse, unpleasant voice. I said nothing. His hand stayed wrapped around mine for a long time, until I saw a drunk walking ahead of us. I watched him release my hand with a look of relief, then shuffle away with his back bent.
“I’m sorry. I changed her, but I couldn’t save her.”
“You did all you could. They all deserve to die!”
His figure disappeared into the darkness, while beneath the dim light, I silently wept as I looked at the blood covering my hands.
