Every scene from that night seemed to have become a nightmare crafted by Wenxiu Lord for Tom Riddle, plunging him into an abyss even while awake.
Even the very air he breathed now was a mixture of blood and scorching smoke.
His scarlet eyes had grown even redder; having gone unrefreshed for too long, the whites were bloodshot as well, as though soaked through in Wenxiu Lord's blood. He stared blankly at the pristine white quilt, yet in Tom Riddle's world, everything was red—the color of Wenxiu Lord.
Chapter 438