To a Weary Soul, A River of Blood to Sate Your Thirst (1).

"The scent of blood lingers..."

"It draws in the scavenging birds and flies."

"It is a vile odor. I do not like it very much..."

"And yet..."

"For some reason..."

"It does not leave me."

"It clings to me."

"Like a dying lover"

"Like my sins."

"And so, I must continue."

"I must bathe everything in blood."

"So I shall not suffer this madness alone."

"I loathe it."

"I loathe the scent of blood."

Cain's eyes snapped open.

The moment it did, he fell to his knees, a terrible pain assaulting his mind.

'Shit! Where am I?!'

The last thing he could remember was the water and–

The last thing he could remember was...

The last thing he...

Cain shivered and his lips trembled,

"I..."

The scent of blood assailed his nose.

"I can't remember!"

He looked down at his body.

He was covered in armor. However, he didn't recognize it.