"i'm going out. Don't you dare to follow me."

Roshambo said as he left to traverse the depths of the darkness of night. He didn't want to tell you what he was going to do, and even less did he want you to get involved in it. He was usually warm and loving towards his friends, but this time his burgundy irises were cold and if they could, they would kill with a look.

So you sat and waited impatiently for him for several hours, with the unpleasant thought in the back of your mind that something bad might happen to him. Your eyelids became heavier and heavier over time until you finally fell asleep.

The door creaks open, quiet footsteps, heavy breathing and something dripping onto the floor. This was the sound that greeted you when you woke up. Through the crack in the door you saw that it was Ro. He's leaning on his sword, breathing heavily, his clothes are quite dirty and his skin is covered with bruises and cuts. His usually velvety and beautiful hair was now matted and caked with sticky, crimson blood that also streamed from his nose. He sloppily wiped it away with the back of his hand, smearing the dark red liquid on his face. Suddenly he looked towards you, the torchlight that shyly refliected in his bloodshot eyes, looked as if the small fire was embodiment of the hatred and anger that was boiling inside him, making him resemble a monster.