Dashing kicked in the door, gallantly strode into the room, shouted “Don’t worry milady, I’ll save you!” and immediately slipped and fell on his face. That was not how it was supposed to go. Whatever he slipped in made a wet, sucking sound as he pried his face out of it. He noticed a couple of horrifying things as he rose to his knees and looked up: The reason he slipped was because the floor, the walls, and for that matter the ceiling, were covered in blood. Not just blood as it turns out, but all manner of body parts as well. A Cat with the most fiendish look he had ever seen was rolling around delightedly in a pile of viscera. Prince Dashing threw up. This definitely was not how it was supposed to go. He wiped his mouth off, realized his hand was covered in semi-clotted blood and almost threw up again. Light headed, Dashing slumped back on his heels and stared wide eyed across the room. A young woman was perched, quite demurely despite being spattered with gore, atop a pile of crates and weaponry. Her smile contrasted brightly against all of the blood.
“Excellent timing! I was just beginning to wonder how I was going to carry all of this loot out by myself,” remarked Alice.
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