Laying on the ground, blood trickling from her many wounds and slowly pooling around her body, Rosabel wondered where their group had gone wrong. So very and horribly wrong.
The acrid smell of iron filled her nostrils right up to the point where she could taste it and no amount of swallowing rid her of it. Wherever her eyes roamed, she saw bodies lying prone, lifeless, in the streets as rivulets of blood converged together to paint the pavement in the very essence of life. Men, ...
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