Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of blood hitting the floor was the only thing breaking the silence in the empty training room.
Each drop splattered against the white reinforced tiles. Spreading in small crimson circles that mixed with the pools of sweat beneath Kyle's shaking body.
His nose wouldn't stop bleeding. The warm metallic flow kept trickling over his lips, down his chin, dripping steadily like a broken valve.
He could taste the iron on his tongue, sharp and metallic.
Drip.
Kyle's breathing came in ragged gasps. His chest rising and falling like he'd he'd just run a marathon.
Every muscle in his body burned with exhaustion. His arms trembling just from trying to keep himself upright on the cold floor. His fingers twitched involuntarily, nails scraping against the smooth surface as he tried to steady himself.
Zalrielle lay beside him in her sword form. The black tachi's polished surface reflecting the harsh training room lights.
