prologue

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AS AN ORDINARY INFLUENCE, the living soul, even the foulest of them all, are more than people suppose in this world of ours — easy, real fucking moronic. Though, we were, too. I had assumed that control came easy amongst our own beings, but how was one so willing to escape, if brought upon themselves?

All those nights of ceaseless dreams, stripped off of my own will with restraints, locked deep within a decaying mind, and walled amongst a delusion that had defined just how sick of a human can be — because a mind can be what keeps you at the right path or, too, your biggest weapon — did not scare me.

It did not startle me — though, the sense of being hollow, despite the pulse strumming deep within my skin, had.

The ache of what had claimed responsibility on my shoulders, I had supported — yet never found heed in processing so, until, well, all was too late...

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