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You fight your demons less in your head these days and more in a bottle. They float, soaked in alcohol and burning all the way down, but beautiful none the less. You know what they hide. It's worse than your corpse: a life cycling through booze breath and rehab,(more)
The sirens blare loudly each time. Zen doesn't remember how many times he's been in the same situation; with her forced against the Unknown kidnapper, mouth open with a plea for help. Zen nods once at her, and in the second she bites Unknown's hand he moves, yanking her(more)