The loud sounds of gunshots could be heard. Birds flew away for their safety and the little animals ran for shelter.

The smirk on Dolly's face remained, like it was a tattoo, stuck to her skin. There were women already on the floor, groaning in pain. She didn't hit them enough for them to die because Evan wouldn't like that.

The penknife she held in her hand was glistening with blood. She kept dodging the bullets and hitting the women. She didn't even bring out the gun she had with her.

The almost thirty women are now almost reduced to nothing, all groaning in pain, having deep injuries on parts...