What's he building?

The cold breeze, my cold heart, my hanging hand. Did I actually shoot it? 

Oh, yeah, I did. 

I really was going to kill him in cold blood.

I mean, how different is it from murdering Diana's mother? Was I already a terrible person? … 

I employed everything I got from the Caiman. The skin became my coat, the meat became my energy, and the bones became my newest knife. I even took care of her children. Didn't hold any ceremony, but did pay my respects by not letting its life being a waste. 

 Would I have done the same for Omar? Was there any place for respect?

Biel's voice was echoing in my head.

 ~~~

" Dê seus Pulos."

~~~

And Lily's

~~~

"Hihihi, you don't know anything?"

~~~

My blood was boiling. Was it really only revenge? 

Not that it matters right now.

My warm overcoat, my warm muscles, the warm stream of blood. What the hell are those things anyway?

The sudden hands sprouting from all over the ground. They crawled from underneath and risen from the dirt. Ragged clothes, rotting flesh with chunks outright ripped off — I can see the bones of many of them. 

My arrow only traveled a few meters and hit one of them instead, didn't even draw blood or get a reaction. Not that there is any chance Omar is going to live. 

I can still hear him struggling, roaring.  

Before I even noticed I was already swarmed, they aren't particularly strong, but are they hungry. Always grabbing and moving the jaws. They got my leg with such vigor, it reminded me of the Piraña attack on Biel, I lost a chunk. 

Luckily, I managed to get to a rooftop, and they are not smart or coordinated enough to climb. I did get bit, though — Even if this isn't a spreading disease, it will still get infected. I have to get back to Joy.

I try to jump between houses, but my leg is killing me. Every jump gets harder, and the one that I fail might be the last one of my life.

"AARRGghhh!"

TSK

That was Omar's last scream. He finally gave his last breath. 

My heart sinks. There is no hope. There is something even more demoralizing about this fear. There isn't a thing I can do against these things, but their very existence is a reminder of my mortality, of my powerlessness.

RAWRR

It is a rougher roar.

No. No way.  

I look back and there he is. A Jaguar. 

It was bitten, mauled, to death. Large chunks of flesh missing, more bones than meat or skin. More importantly, enough power to get up here. It quickly gets on the top of a neighboring house and dashes closer.

My heart is pounding. I need to make this next jump!

HUMP!

Yes, I did it. 

…

That is futile, I won't outrun it from up here. Much less while wounded.

He jumps on top of me and starts biting and scratching. My coat doesn't let it pierce me, but there is still much pressure, enough to shatter and, eventually, break my bones. 

I take my bone knife and stick it to the few bits of flesh in its belly. It is futile. It doesn't even flinch, doesn't even feel. 

I won't die, but I still tear up.

On the one hand, I can just vanish, but right now I'm a distraction. These things are thirsting for me. They want my flesh 'cause they can see me. If I cease to exist, will they start invading houses? What hero would I be? A hero murderer who leaves the people to die?

There is no option. His paws are pinning me down, and I can feel his jaws crushing my collarbone, bending it. 

I have to leave all of them behind. I'm sorry … I'm Sorry!

[Kingdom of Kingdoms]

God Dammit! FUCK! 

What are these things?