Reaching for the knife, he vomited again...
...
But that didn't stop him...
...
...
No...
...
He was feeling a burning rage swell inside him...
...
...
Akin to a moth's attraction to fire...
...
With spit and dribble running down his chin, the knife was suddenly in his hands...
...
...
Gid's palms were sweaty, heavy...
...
Shaking as if to show his hesitation...
...
...
Yet there was only one thing on his mind...
...
"Die please..."