The Massacre of Shibuya Hospital.
Blood.
The scent of blood was everywhere. It seeped into the air, reaching far beyond the hospital's cold, sterile walls, pervading the night.
Bodies littered the ground outside, a grotesque display of men, women, and even children. Innocence and guilt no longer mattered.
One of the hospital wings was engulfed in flames, an inferno that seemed to burn straight from Hell.
Inside the hospital, the horror only deepened. Blood pooled in every corner, a macabre flood that painted the walls, floors, and ceilings in a sickening red.
Dead bodies, lay scattered like discarded dolls. The air was thick with the coppery tang of blood and the stench of death.
Brains were splattered against the walls, leaving behind a grotesque mosaic of gray matter. Throats were slit, the gaping wounds grinning in a sinister mockery.
Hearts were stabbed, the still-warm flesh twitching in silent agony.
Grotesque.