Cursed Bloods

"Is this... necessary?" Revia asked. The folds on her face as she grimaced at what she saw, only added to how she didn't see what was before in a pleasant light.

Her counterpart, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. She was crouching down, sullying her robes in blood without a care. The clotting crimson seemed to soothe her, actually, providing a sense of comfort.

The sharp dagger in her hand ripped through the neck of a human corpse for the umpteenth, and blood sprayed to her face. She wiped it away with her hands and sighed.

"It's necessary. Tedious... but necessary," this woman said.

She rose and looked all around at her work.

The hundreds of thousands that had perished in Inhone City lay sprawled over the ground, amid the large chunks of debris, dilapidated builds, entrails, scattered fruit from vending stalls, cheap clothing, and all that could be found in the lively hours of the city – before the attack hours earlier.