The Night of the Auction VIII

I couldn't say anything on the spur of the moment, but I also find it hard to believe what is happening in front of my eyes. That is both mysterious and suspicious at the same time.

Everything about the woman with the silver hair, the white dress, and the blood all over her and on the ground made sense.

When I look into my hands, I couldn't stop my eyes from expanding in unison with the trembling in my body. I could even picture some colors of scarlet, crimson fluids pouring through my palms.

These have been recurring themes in my dreams. They involve me and a crimson color that has invaded my vision, my intellect, and even my judgment. This is no longer appropriate.

Who am I? Why have I been living this life this way? Am I the new me or am I still the old me?

I'm perplexed —-

“Listen, Solstice,” Xander must have sensed that I wasn't feeling well this time because he hugged me tighter than usual. When I tilted my head to his face to look at him, he just hugs me without any regret or o