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He coughed and sat up, crippled by the pains plaguing his stomach. He spat up blood, and realized that he
Whitebloodghost
couldn't differentiate the red color from the color of the floor. Shaking now, he stood up. The pains' magnitude increased sharply, and he went tumbling back down again. Luckily, he was able to catch himself on the windowsill.

Everything was red. The pavement, the grass, trees, everything. It was all red, save for the snow that coated the ground in specific areas. His whole body shook -- down to his very eyeballs. It was all blood. Dried blood, or wet blood, coating everything. He scanned around down below for what stood out from the redness. The snow, the sky, and... motion. A white figure roamed down below, hovering just above the ground. It looked like nothing but a clump of sheets, but it moved intelligently.

It stopped here and there, examined the bloody ground, then zigzagged in the opposite direction and carried out the same action. He watched it for some time, until it reached the middle of the street not far from the house he was in. It stopped there. It did nothing for a while. Then, it turned its face to him. It was wearing a plain white mask, emotionless and terrifying. A pulse of fear hit him, and he fell away from the window.

When he got back up and looked out, the being was gone. His heart pounded like never before. Absolute horror filled his body. The pain in his stomach worsened. He clutched his stomach and felt wetness. He whimpered in fear as he raised his hand to see what was wet. Blood.

Downstairs, there was the sound of windows exploding. One after another, they all shattered. He gasped when the pain exploded even further, and he felt multiple sharp pains in his already aching stomach. He knelt onto the floor and vomited more blood, and he felt the sharp glass shards drop from his stomach. There were quiet tapping sounds as each piece hit the floor, bouncing off of the bloody floorboards.

"Why... why... wh-why..." he moaned, still tightly grasping his wounded stomach. From another room, this time on his floor, he heard a window break, and his pain increased at precisely the same time. Windows all around the upper floor exploded, and more glass continued to pour out from his stomach. Then the sounds stopped, and only his window was left undamaged. The pain stopped.

He stood up weakly and glimpsed outside, thinking he was safe. There was a white blur as the being appeared instantly outside and blasted his window in, throwing him back to the floor and causing a miniature fountain of broken glass to slide out of his stomach. He screamed and screamed, all while the being just hovered before him. Emotionless. Judging.

He begged for it to let him live. He cried, he moaned. The white being didn't react at all. Instead, the pain returned. It was deeper and more powerful than ever, and he could feel it spreading through his whole body. Glass shards shot out from his stomach, his arms and legs, and finally his chest and face. Despite all of his vital organs being fatally punctured by the glass, he still lived in agony.

A trail of blood dripped down from the top of the being's mask and made its way down its face, to its chin, where it dripped onto its white robe. He screamed as the glass expanded and shattered into more pieces, tearing his body apart and finally violently slaughtering him.

The being observed decimated corpse, soaking in its own blood. A smile crept onto its mask. A sickening smile of disturbance and hate.

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