If the deck of the freighter was adorned with bloodstains, then facing the corridor and stairs at this moment could only be described as being soaked with blood. This time Troy managed to suppress his aversion to the gore; he widened his eyes, observing the scene with his clear gaze. Despite trying hard to imagine, he couldn't fathom what transpired on this ship—the bodies are absent, only the bloodstains remain.
The soles scraping against the stains produced a grinding sound, wearing away the dried red powder. In some places, the depth of the bloodstains allowed for shoe imprints. On the iron plates, specks of blood were splattered, and every scene evoked images of the slain, and the way blood sprayed onto the walls and landed on the floor.
"No traces of bullet holes, they used cold weapons, can't determine without bodies." Black Doctor had similar visions in his mind with each step he took.
