Eric and Jimmy ran through the hallways as fast as they could, jumping over bodies and navigating through corners. The floor and walls were painted with blood and bullet holes as they progressed.
Eric, holding his weapon up tactically, led the way, enduring the pains creeping all over his body, while Jimmy was right behind, following Eric, his grip tight on the bloodied blade.
Jimmy, while running, was only half-focused on their current situation. His mind was scrolling through the desperate and somewhat regretful action he had taken just minutes ago.
Seeing people get killed was one thing, but killing someone with your own hands, murdering someone, was another thing entirely.
He felt sober, filled with guilt, regret, and almost emotional about it, but the tense, life-threatening events didn't give him enough mental state to process all that. He remained silent and focused.
