Between the blood-curdling screams, chilly maniacal laughter, and noisy flashes of the reporter's cameras, the room echoed with waves of confusion. Bodies packed the room like sardines in a can, all of them coated in crimson, rotting flesh and other trappings of gore. In the middle of this sea of mutilated individuals, a beautiful girl with perfect pink lips laid face down, the hilt of the dagger jutting sharply out of her back inches below her butterfly tattoo. Blood oozed from the wound in a steady stream. It was just a drop of crimson compared to the ocean of carnage around her, but somehow this drop was different, thicker, brighter, much more scary.