Sister Xia felt as though her legs were filled with lead, each step heavy beyond belief.
But she couldn't stop; the instant she stopped, the evil spirits behind would claim their lives.
They were like refugees on the run, and those who ran the slowest would be killed.
An exit? Was there really hope for them to escape?
But what else could they do if they didn't run now?
The land behind them grew muddier and muddier, the earth as if corroded, devouring anything that fell into it.
A few fallen leaves floated on this muddy ground, not sinking in, but rolling slowly forward with the muddy water.
"I don't want to run anymore, you go ahead, if I die, so be it." There were five still alive, a voice came, and then someone lay down on the ground.
He looked at the blood-colored sky, a peace like never before filling his heart.
Perhaps this is it?
Is a person's death inevitable?
