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"He's dead!"

Someone outside this small and caliginous cabinet stated. I covered my mouth using my trembling hands, which were coated with blood. Hot tears are falling from my sad and scared eyes, while my lips are quivering because of the unfathomable feelings drifting and swimming in my system.

Fire is dead. He's dead!

My eyes landed on the knife on the floor, soaking with blood. My fingerprints are in there! Am I the killer?