OLEANDER
I stood rooted to the spot, watching what was happening with wide, unblinking eyes.
The man who had shoved me earlier was involved. He was sitting on top of another man, already dead. Yeah, dead, because his heart lay beside him.
Blood was everywhere. On the walls. On the floor. Splattered across the bodies of those trying to pull him away from the corpse. But he wouldn't yield.
My stomach clenched, my knees trembled, and my heart began to pound violently. This was the same thing I had walked in on six years ago. More gruesome, but still enough to jolt my mind back into the past.
"Why?" I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes.
Why would anyone want to kill their fellow human? The fact that he didn't look remorseful—no, that he was smiling—made everything feel far more wrong.
And no, he wasn't the only one treating it like a game.
All of them were laughing.
Only one person was crying. A girl close to my age. She must have been close to the victim.
