Prologue

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They called me the greatest mime artist of all time. They put posters all around the city, telling people to come watch my shows, to come witness gravity defying mime tricks that no one could replicate. Many people I'm sure wanted to meet me, but no one had ever seen me outside of show hours. After a performance, I would disappear, supposedly recuperating for the next run. 

But that wasn't the truth. Behind the curtain, hidden in the shadows, I was being slowly strangled, slowly beaten. The invisible chains around my arms and legs and neck cut into my skin, leaving red welts and angry coloring. The first time I managed to escape, I discovered that he could somehow render the injuries invisible to the people outside. He caught up with me all too soon, and I was back in chains, this time with tiny sharp spikes that protracted with any sudden movements. That was the first and only time I had ever tried to run. 

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