It was dark, blood; there was so much of it, it coated his hands, his bare skin and ran in gallons from the bodies laid dead in front of him, and yet still there were protesters scattered like ants across the fields.
He walked up to them, and even in his sleep, he felt it; the extending of his claws, tearing into the sheets. He kept twisting, kept turning and sweat damped his body as his deeds haunted him...
‘Help me!’
‘No!’
‘Please I beg you!’
‘Don’t kill me...I...!’
Xavier whimpered in his sleep, his mind filled with torment, his heart with pain.
‘I’m innocent!’
‘I said nothing!’
‘You’re a demon, no king, a demon from hel—’
In swift movements, his hand reached forward, swiping the woman across the neck, blood sprayed and the screams from bystanders had him jolting up
