663 Words of the past

However, Sheyan’s nudges were futile. Mbenga’s lifeless eyes remained dull and his body limp. One could describe his condition as akin to gossamer, or a flickering candle in the wind, extinguishable at any second.

"Ahhhhh!" Sheyan couldn’t resist himself from slapping Mbenga’s face, as 5 clear fingerprints formed. Blood trickled slowly out Mbenga’s nose as Sheyan roared furiously.

"You can’t die yet! Not until you see this for yourself!"

Unbeknownst why, while he was roared furiously, his nose turned sour and turbulent emotions flooded his chest. At this moment, he subconsciously recalled that stormy night, when he was pursued to the brink of desperation right before he entered the nightmare realm.

Without the fate of encountering the nightmare realm, he would be just like Mbenga; carrying a deep-seated unwillingness as he departed from the world...