Whatever had killed him, it hadn’t been human. His face was gone, simply torn away. Something had ripped his lips off. I could see his bloodstained teeth. His nose had been torn all the way up one side, and part of it dangled toward the floor. His eyes were gone. Torn out of his head. Bitten out.There were ragged slash marks of fangs all around the edges of the sockets. The victim’s jacket had been torn to bloody ribbons along his forearms, in defensive wounds. His hands and arms were a mass of pulped, ripped meat, the palms and fingers slashed to ragged lumps. His body hid his abdomen from me, but that was where the blood was pooling from, spreading out like ink from a spilled bottle.