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Son of witches - Chapter 19: Nature Forms
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Chapter 18: The Tenth Month
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Chapter 20: Split Ways
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... n't simply stain the streets; it moved with a terrible purpose, thick rivers of it oozing between cobblestones like the veins of some dying beast.
Bodies lay twisted in angles that would make a contortionist wince, limbs bent backwards at joints never meant to bend.
The air hung heavy with the stench of iron and something far worse - a thick, vegetal rot that coated Menma's tongue like spoiled honey, making every breath a battle against nausea.
Screams formed a grotesque ...
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