'Death.
Death is an ugly thing.
It's the snatcher of light, the silencer of breath. It comes uninvited, squeezing lungs tight and weighing down every instinct to fight.
It renders one powerless, clawing for nothing as the air becomes heavy as stone and the light in your eyes fades till it dies.
Facing death is inevitable. A painful end to a short life. A cruel process.
Death is painful. I fear it. I don't want it.
But seeing others face it with the same fear thrills me.
They should be scared of it too.
It has always been fun to watch. The way they cower, scream, beg. It's an expression I always want to see.
So why was she smiling? I don't understand.'
Fei Ming stood apart from the others.
The game was finally over. He won.
His fingers flexed around the grip of his long polearm blade.
The stench of rotten flesh mixed in with the metallic pang of blood.
