DEMA

No Chances

1st of January, 3001
We come for you, no chances.
We come for you, no chances.
We got people on the way.
We want you home in one piece now.
Run away, run away.
We get bodies every day.
We want you home in one piece now.
Run away.

I was held there, in the Bishops cells, for twenty one days.
They kept me in the same room I lived in all those years ago, except I didn't need to be torturered.
BlurryFace did that for me.
Nico was angry with me, after my announcement, groups in Dema had began rioting and looking for answers, my name became known.
Nico assured me that these groups had been dealt with.
Nico had also informed the citizens of Dema that I had been killed.
Clancy was dead.
And so, like citizens do, they forgot all about the whole ordeal.
I didn't see Nico all too much during my time in prison.
Keons looked after me.
Keons embodied the spirit of dedication.
Of Dema's nine bishops, Keons was revered as unwavering and forthright, possessing the ability to achieve focus.
I admired him, and felt honored to be his freind.
He did not posses the ruthlessness of other bishops, Keons possessed a stoic demeanor unlike anyone I had ever met, and I was proud to serve him.
He re-told to me, the history of Dema, and told tales of the Banditos savagery.
I was conflicted, and not sure which side was in the right, or if neither side was.
But either way, I had to except the fact I would never return to Trench.
I couldn't, not after what I had done.
It was Keons that convinced Nico to set me free, well, as free as you can be in Dema.
Nico agreed on the condition that I promised to obey, and not attempt an escape.
I swore to him I would keep my word.
Keons ascorted me home, back to the same, white appeartment I had lived in for years.
A lone vulture sat, perched on the roof, keeping watch over me.
A stark reminder of my days in Trench.
My apartment had been trashed, my belongings searched trough over and over again.
The day is coming to a close, and I'm currently making my first entry in a brand new journal.
I'm looking at the yellow flower from trench, as it lays on my desk.
I should put it away in my drawer.
Everything is still, the world so quiet here.

In my house shoes in a foot race.
In this house, we got feng shui.
Get the door to blow you away.
Flamethrower, you're a switchblade.
Feet planted on grip tape.
With my shoulders square and my back straight.
Got a good base and a loose tongue.
Notorious in the octagon.
How did you get the location? Put together pieces?
They say they sell the information in those terms of agreement.
We spend some weekends on the grind.
Surveillance is outside, we see when you arrive.
Ride or die, my son.
Spent some weekends on the grind.
Surveillance is outside, we see when you arrive.
Ride or die, Josh Dun.