Kent's eyes closed, everything gradually weakened, he felt the real death coming. On the other side, Benjamin's cursing did not stop.

"Skip!" The ribcage shattered like a balloon explosion, red blood splattered on the windowsills, filthy material fell to the floor. They wet even the yellowed pages on the wooden tables, forming strange shapes like some ghost sign that no one has discovered yet.

Kent tried to open his eyes wide, looking into the distance in the dark an approaching figure was wet with blood. Benjamin and the others were shocked, he never did, but the witches died tragically, a death beyond the destruction of his kind.

Benjamin realized that this was not the power of a witch, nor the physical attacks of humanity, much less the vulgar smell of some demon. All was not, as if there was a ticking time bomb lying dormant in the man's chest just waiting to explode, setting off a fireworks display of blood and flesh.

For the first time in his life, Benjamin experienced