Irresistibly, she drifted toward the head of the bed. She saw the entire bed, and the face of the girl on it!
It wasn't the beautiful young homeowner, but another girl in heavy, garish makeup. Her body was more mature, her posture more wanton. But fresh, red blood was spurting from her delicate neck. Even over the booming music, laughter, and screams from the other room, a SPURTING sound could be heard as it jetted out.
Droplets of blood danced in the air before falling, sinking into the thick, messy duvet. The rest splattered across her own face, and the face of the man.
It was Mr. Hei. No, it was the fake Mr. Hei.
He was still naked, a certain part of him still connected to the girl beneath him. One of his hands was tangled messily in the girl's thick, voluminous hair, while the other held a narrow-bladed dagger, a foot long. She had seen something like it at a butcher's stall before, the kind used for deboning meat.
