Chapter 169
The sun beat down on the deserted landscape as the traitors' bodies hung, stretched out, and suspended in a gruesome display on wooden crosses planted in the dry earth. After being nailed inside the warehouse, they had been brought out so everyone could see.
The air was heavy with the stench of death, decay, sweat, and fear. Flies buzzed around the wounds, feasting on the festering flesh. Their once-human forms were now twisted and broken, their bodies mingling with dried blood sagging on the cross in a helpless pose.
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