Prologue

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Finally, the story I've always wanted to write is here.

Warnings: contains elements of British humour and culture which some readers may find hard to understand.

Also: Smut-- more as the story goes on; plus a bit of misogyny and misandry, violence against females, protagonist engaging with multiple sexual partners, animal sex, age gap, love square, drug use, chain smoking, brutality and death, NONE OF WHICH I CONDONE.
In film terms, this would probably be an 18+ so if you are under that age, I'd recommend not reading. Please don't send me hate messages if you fail to heed the warnings.

I own nothing special apart from my OCs.

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Thursday 26th May 1983

One year after the Jellicle Ball.

Full moon

Rain drifts down like a misted flood,

Soaks the ground with tears of blood,

Decorating lips that have frozen mid breath,

Awaiting the chilling arms of death,

A warrior tired of fighting, sick of being brave,

Of being beaten down like a lowlife slave,

This is his work, but it is no more,

The truth strikes right to the core,

That he's leaving the one who lit the ardent flame,

And with the last of his strength, he calls her name.

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