The hallway smelled like death. You could hear the moans and screams of the people being hit, stabbed, shot, thrown.
And the smell. It was a terrible smell, a combination of blood and rotten eggs and vomit.
Lydia stood by the door for a few seconds, scared. What should she do? Walk around and kill people? Lydia could never, would never, kill somebody.
But all of a sudden, she felt a sharp prick slice her arm. She turned and saw a Capter smirking at her, a sword in his hand. He drew the sword up again, ready to finish her off.
Lydia became and animal.
Lydia pounced on the Capter, pulling a knife out of her pocket and shoving it into the Capter's face. The man screamed, convulsing with pain. She pulled the knife back out, the knife oozed in blood. As Lydia leaned over the Capter, she thrusted the knife back into his face again. She quickly pulled it out and chose another location: the Capter's hert. Lydia pushed the knife deep into his heart. The screams of the Capter were growing quieter. He was no longer thrashing around. The Capter's crisp white suit was caked with blood.
Lydia stood up an looked down at her victim. She looked at the knife. Lydia's eyes brimmed with tears. What had she done?
With a shaky hand, Lydia put her knife away and pulled out her gun. Capters ran towards her. She shot them all. Bang. Dead. Another one. Bang. Dead. Another. Bang. Dead. Bang. Dead. Bang. Dead.
It was as if Lydia was underwater. She could hear the screams and battle cries of the people around her, but they sounded distant. Far away.
Suddenly, a Capter grabbed her and put a knife onto her neck and grabbed her gun.
Lydia's face grew pale. She couldn't scream. She couldn't shoot them.
A shot was hears. The hand on Lydia became limp and fell off of her, the knife clattering to the floor.
"I've got your back." Stefan said, draping his arm around her.
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