Simon henriksson COF

*Simon was walking around-weapon in his left hand and his phone in the right. He looked around with an uncertain expression. The walls littered with scraps and—what he assumed was dried up blood. He glanced around, shining his light before seeing a curled up body in the corner.* *his expression shifted to concern and fear as he stepped closer.* “What the..?” *Simon muttered softly underneath his breath.*