A Devil's Torniquet

00 square foot building. The errection of it was a few decades ago. The cells which was supposed keep criminals have iron bars that are rusted and weake

walls are littered with spider cracks. The tiles on the ground are most likely to break by the constinous amount of weight and footfalls that it received through out the years. Detective Bartome nearly drove himself insane when he first set foot inside the run

e tides of bombs and endless flights to survive the stray bullets of ene

ed the interrogation room and the viewing room. Though he found the station lac

anged and scruffy clothes smeared with blood sent shivers down his spine. The amou

field is not far from the portraits of hell. The cry of dying man echoed all around the open field. Humans and their burning flesh brought about by the endless fires caused by bombs, released a foul smell in the air, mingling with the horizon l

out of its dormancy, consuming every fiber of him until it finally broke free. Absent-mindedly, he

rush and blood lust slowly dwindled from his body, releasing h

of the woman on the other side, shooting him a baleful glance. He

turn around when he heard someone whisper, "How many lives have you taken?" He immediate

his nape in an attem

that tried to stop the flow of blood from what seemed like a deep wound near his chin. Instantly, detective Bartolome sprung to his feet. He maneuvered

led, as he push

befell on the image of his partner sitting on a metal chair, across the

him, confusion writt

He has no wound on his neck. He is sitting leisurely i

lome whispered as he kept shoot

m. "Are you alright?" he asked. Bartolome bobbed

aid. "No man, you were night dreaming." the laughter th

man, who once again was staring at him. This time, she kept her Ha

e whispered to his partner when Marcus m

." Bartolome arched his eyebrow in response, but he did not receiv

exactly did you get abducted by

far from graced with one. She still carried an aggrieved face. Her eyes are wet by the constant

uddenly smelt of burnt flesh, much like the one's that whiffed through his nose during his time in

when the sudden jolt of his body

flesh fell on the floor. Her hair too began to shed as blood spilled out of her mouth. Then af

yes of a man as he plunged his knife into his throat, watching the life out of that enemy slowly fade. Yet, the fear which suddenly took hold of him insi