Toggle Background Color


"That girl was...
not...Cheryl..."

Harry then begins coughing, and at the same time vermilion liquid spatters
about.

"Harry!
Don't talk anymore!"

Harry is crying.

"...tha...t...that was.........
not Cheryl at...all"

His words seemed to have something like a desire embedded somewhere within
them.

Harry did not speak or respond again.

Cybil, who had been unable to accept the incomprehensible events that had
occurred around her up to this point, was unable to believe that the man
in front of her was dead.

The wind seems to be blowing outside.

Cybil stared at her hands, which had become covered with blood.
Instead of trying to wipe them off, she firmly grasped her handgun.

Something like a kind of resolution arose in Cybil's stern look.
"Cheryl.
I must find her, and then take her home."

(continues into choice A as normal)