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Chapter 2: The First Kill
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... nes stretched endlessly around him, brimstone skulls staring blankly into the dark sky.
The scent of dried blood and death filled the air—a perfume that made his blood tingle with delight. His fingers brushed the fragile ribs beneath him, feeling the familiar texture of death.
Perfect for rebirth.
He rose with the graceful movements of a predator, memories of the past flashing for a moment—twenty-eight years as Lucas Hartanto, the dutiful accountant, the docile sheep. The ...
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