He emptied the contents—or lack of thereof—of his stomach. For a spirit, he was surprised that he had the ability to even unwillingly regurgitate the contents of his stomach.
Jack Frost wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. Even so, his hands shook.
Why?
Just… Why?
Why did he have to see that? No one should have to see that.
No one should have to see all that blood.
That didn't stop pouring from her head, adding to the pool below her body. Still shaking, he grabbed the chilled wood of his staff. Leaning his weight against it, Jack used the staff as he stood up.
He had to help her.
However, the sight of the moon peeking out from behind the dark clouds was the last thing he remembered.
And how cold the snow beneath him was.
Sorry that it's short... but it's the prologue...