Recollection

It was as if I had traveled back to the last century when I was still the Holy Virgin of the Moon Temple. I recalled that night as quiet as usual, without the sound of the wind. I was still praying for the wolf pack in front of the statue of the Moon Goddess, but when I was halfway through my prayer, a strange sound interrupted my thoughts.

I followed the direction of the sound. Just below the steps of the Moon Temple, a man covered in blood and ragged clothes fell between the second and third steps. Every part of his body was cut open by a sharp weapon. There was not a single piece of flesh left. The dark blood had seeped into his clothes and turned into a bloody shirt.

The candlelight in the temple allowed me to see his face. It was blood-stained but clearly defined. His head was pressed against the stone steps, and he let out a faint moan. At this moment, he opened his eyes slightly, and I saw those dull purple eyes.