The voice startles him. Accusation laces his tone as a hand grips his shoulder and jerks him about.
"No," he whispers, backing urgently away.
He trips over a broken chair and slips over blood but rights himself in time to throw the man aside.
A voice screams into his ear but he cannot stay and explain. Already, the red stains on his hands work against him. Fingers claw at him, bodies block his way, but he powers through them, his eyes filled with the blind ferocity of rage.
