Kro's hands were bloody, only of his own origin. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, in a heap of self-loathing and regret. Why had he even let people up here in the first place? Why had he let it get to this point? He had snapped, and now he regretted every moment.
He curled up on the balcony, cradling his hands, crying into them as well. Slowly, he faded into sleep, shaking and moaning through the night.