Stepping on that blood-stained floor, Crowley stood before the door. His hand turned the handle. Ferid stepped back and behind him, as if in fright.
“You will go in first of course, I hope? Since I’m weak and all.”
Crowley gave him a strained smile and ventured inside.
The room was rather spacious. There were a few barrels lined up along one side of it. They were the source of the stench. It was more than likely that the contents was blood. Blood that had gone bad, too.
In the middle of that spacious room, a skinny and sick-looking man in his mid thirties desperately sucked at the neck of a dead woman.