Kelly watched the flames crackling over burnt wood, the smoke drifting into the dark, gloomy night sky.
The six of them sat around the fire, and Kelly watched as they laughed and threw jokes around with a look of quiet melancholy.
She could tell they were trying to lighten the mood, a way to fight the fear that they might die tomorrow. But it was mostly because of Elyndra, who looked like someone that had been through hell and crawled back out.
Dark bags hung under her eyes, her face swollen from too much crying and from… well, the loud, painful slaps everyone had given her the moment she started screaming.
Poor girl.
Although Kelly had to admit to herself that she'd enjoyed slapping that chubby face more than she should have. It felt weirdly satisfying giving those squishy cheeks a good beating.
Wait—what the hell was wrong with her? Since when did she turn into some sick sadist? Something was definitely off.
