It was quiet, eerily so. The only sound was the drip of blood. It slowly moved its way down her face, from her scalp to her eyes, around the crease of her mouth to her chin, and finally to the pool on the floor.
The man took this in, his expression never changing. His gaze rested on her, although he wasn't thinking about her. He was thinking about what came after her. He was waiting for the moment when everything could begin.
It came.
Her face began to swell, distorting and bulging as her flesh began to stretch. The blood began to pour out now, while a grin formed from her lips. She burst, releasing blood and brains across the catwalk in front her, including on the man standing there.
He didn't even move.
"Let us begin, Fuyutski."