The Writer's Café

The Disciples, sneak preview.

She gasped in pain as my knife was digging through her flesh, her blood covering my hands. I was filled with sorrow and remorse, I wasn't a natural born killer, but she was my test and I wanted to ace it.
 
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Don't mess.
(I hate it when the front of your sweatshirt droops over and gives an obese look...)
 
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