Don't Trust Your Eyes

He entered her bedroom and saw that her face was no longer the same. It was dented in some places and swollen in others. Her short hair was bloody, one eye was closed normally, and the other was swollen shut. A jelly-like substance dripped from between her eyelashes. Her skirt had been hiked up high, so he pulled it down to cover her legs more fully. Hearing soft footsteps behind him, he spun around and instinctively reached for the handgun on the floor. Less than ten meters away stood his enemy, looking first at the person lying on the ground, then at him.

“She’s dead,” he said. “I...”

He seemed to realize something. “You’re using the same trick again, trying to frame me!”