"Fuckin' hunters. See, this could've been us".
Joongki wasn’t sure if the stench from the pile of viscera was better or worse if he breathed through his nose or through his mouth; either way, between the smell and the sight, he was sick enough already crossing through what happened to be the second of these hunters’ slaughter rooms. The neat piles of their victims’ clothes, shoes, weapons, on wide metal tables at the far end of the room were nearly as disturbing as the…meat…hanging from improvised hooks.
He suddenly wished he could have gone back and killed those men and women more slowly and with far greater violence.
“We’re lucky, this time.” Joongki took a shallow breath, reminded his stomach that vomiting was not a productive thing to do at the moment, and tried again. “Let’s look through what they gathered and see if there’s anything we can use. We need to be quick, before anyone else decides to come back.”
And let’s never come back again.
