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... at he had protected me or if I should be worried. I stood frozen, staring at his shoulders.

Afterwards, he retracted his hand, before tucking it in his pocket, his eyes gleamed, as he stared at his handiwork, the ground was painted red with blood.

"Now follow me," his voice grew louder, sending chills down my spine, my head spinned like a spiral, I didn’t want to go with him. That man is a bonafide psychopath.

When he noticed that I hadn’t moved an inch, he turned his hea ...

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