Chapter 8: In Which Is Much Horror

Tsuzuki's suggestions could only hold so long.

Having stepped through the door, father and son seemed to fall into a forgotten nightmare, standing suddenly aghast at the blood on them.

Most of it was on Hisoka… on his face… his hair was matted with it… Tatsumi's hands were caked with it, and as he had unconsciously put on his sodden tie again in the car, his suit too was smeared with red…

Raw nerves frayed further as a window slammed shut. A wind was kicking up.

Tatsumi gave the protesting Hisoka a quick and thorough pat down, assuring himself that the teen was unhurt. He then gingerly loosened his tie, wondering about lodging a police report. But what would they be reporting? The gory ruin of what had been perfectly serviceable clothing?

Neither could remember how they came to be so bloodied.