C173 When day breaks, I Die.

The air was thick with a foul, deathly presence. Nausea rose, choking me. I fought to hold it down, but my stomach twisted, the bitter taste rising.

Blood. Fresh. Dark. Everywhere. A stark stain on the cold concrete. It pooled in the corners, a chilling testament to what had happened here. My hands flew to my mouth, holding back the bile. My feet cemented to the ground