𝙞𝙫. 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮-𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 ; entries of confusion.

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iv. twenty-nine: ❝ entries of confusion ❞

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: diary of a madman - ozzy osbourne

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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: diary of a madman - ozzy osbourne

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The dim glow of the gaslight cast flickering shadows across the alley as Michael Grey halted in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat, a tempest of emotions swirling within him—shock, fear, and an inexplicable surge of joy.

Michael Grey's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a thunderous echo that reverberated through his entire being. His eyes widened, drinking in the sight of the figure before him. Draped in shadows, her nightgown just visible beneath the edge of her robe, she struck a match and lit a cigar, the flicker of flame illuminating her face. The smoke curled around her like a veil of secrets.

"Bloody hell. You can't be..." Michael's voice trailed off, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder would shatter the fragile reality before him.

The woman took a deep drag from her cigar, her sharp hazel eyes meeting his with a haunting familiarity. "But I am, Michael."

"Marianna?" Michael's voice quivered, the name almost foreign on his tongue.

Exhaling a plume of smoke that danced in the dim light, a small smirk formed on her lips. "Surprised to see me, Michael?"

He could scarcely believe his eyes. There she stood, Marianna James, the woman he—and everyone else in Birmingham—believed to be dead, shot down in a hail of bullets only a few months prior. He had witnessed it himself—the brutal finality of her fate. Yet here she was, as alive as the night that cloaked them.

"How?" Michael finally managed to utter, his voice a strained whisper.

A ghostly smile played on her lips. "That's a tale for another time. Right now, we have more pressing matters to discuss."

The chill of the night seemed to intensify, yet Michael felt a strange warmth spreading through him. "Pol would be over the moon to know about this. She missed you terribly, Mar."

"That's the first thing we need to discuss, love. No one can know about this—about me." Marianna's smile turned bitter.

"Why? What about Diego? John? Tommy?" Michael's voice cracked with emotion, the last name almost a plea.

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