Ezekiel, Beth's father lay on the pale white snow that was dyed with thick layers of scarlet red blood. His lips were pale as well as his face. Trying to crawl to a save place, hoping to recover just enough to make it back home to meet his only daughter. The bloody red snow made an uneven trail that led to his frail body that was partially covered with the snow. The followers of Zambol only displayed a cold, merciless expression on their pale white faces as they reloaded their guns, leaving empty bullet shells that littered all over the icy cold ground.
Streaks of blood immediately flowed down from his body onto the ground, leaving dark red stains all over his coat. Ezekiel took his last few breath, using all the strength he had just to write: Zambol is upon you fight it before it fights you. He died, letting the falling snowflakes bury his injured body partially.
The whole scene was fully littered with corpse, as the innocent white snowflakes was now dyed with the mixture of of different blood kinds, made up with different people of different races. The followers of Zambol only had an aim and it was to kill and slaughter for their satisfaction to themselves and also an offering to their god, Zambol. To them, blood is a kind of art and also means victory.
Fortunately, the war and the killing of
people has stopped... at least for now.
