Joshua almost didn't hesitate at all before bolting out of the room, following the sound as he dashed down to the first floor.
But the moment his foot touched the last step, he froze. It was as if his soul had left his body—he stood there blankly, eyes wide, staring at the corpse sprawled across the staircase.
The body was riddled with bite marks, torn flesh, and blood splattered everywhere, forming a crimson trail that flowed down the stairs onto the floor below.
The corpse's eyes were wide open, fresh blood seeping from the sockets. Even though the face was barely recognizable—blurred and ruined by blood and mangled flesh—Joshua could still tell.
It was his father.
A wave of nausea surged up from Joshua's stomach.
His heart pounded at an absurd rate, his mind spinning as though he could no longer find his footing.
He bent down, raising his trembling hand—he couldn't even tell what shape it was taking anymore.
Blood... it was really blood... hot and real...
"Aaaahh!"
