Burned Into Memory

"Wait, what happened to you!" she urged, slicing her left hand through the air. "Why are you so bloodied, and tell me, why isn't that instructor dead—"

"I said lets go!" Iskandar bellowed, turning back into Beatrice's direction to catch her thrown hand.

His entire face fell, his tight grip falling along with it. Instead, he clutched a torn section of his left collar that was discolored most with blood, a grievous cut that stretched from the bottom of his neck to his sternum, revealing his fat layer. And yet, Revian couldn't help but notice one thing.

Most of his injuries were covered with a hardened red, some of them even beginning to turn black. Even the newer ones were beginning to show signs of clotting, although the one Iskandar was holding onto was definitely fresh.

'Just how long were they in there?' Revian asked himself, although he knew that now wasn't the proper time to make such inquiries.