My hands were smeared with the colour red. It was the colour of blood, but not the vivid red of the freshly spilled, but more the browning red of old blood. I didn't want to believe that it was blood; it could be red spray paint instead. But who was I fooling? Certainly not myself.

I took my phone out of my pocket, still trembling. I dialled a number in, having to retype a couple of times to get all the digits right. There was no answer, so I left a voicemail after taking an unsteady deep breath. "Jin, I really need you now," I choked on my own words, trying to keep the tears, wails and sobs in. I was strong. Maybe he would come. And if not, that was okay... It had to be.

I wiped the sweat off my head with the back of my hand and gulped.

I didn't know what to do.