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XXI
Apr 5, 2019 18:50:05 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Holden Ross on Apr 5, 2019 18:50:05 GMT -5
He has abandoned me.....forgotten me.....tossed me aside like a used up piece of Kleenex....
*We hear him before we see him. Following the last word is the familiar crack of the cat-of-nine-tails, followed by a muffled cry of pain. From black, the scene slowly fades in and focuses, with Holden standing center frame. A beard has begun growing and his hair is hanging limply in his face. It's greasy with filth, showing his lack of personal hygiene over the past few weeks.
Hanging in his right hand is the whip and he is shirtless, showing the plethora of new ink painting his torso, but the blows werent to his own flesh. The camera moves to his left, showing the twins, both of which still wear muzzles. His "Guilt" and "Conscience" both are facing away from him with their hand raised, as if they were pleading for mercy, and their back are raw, dripping canvasses. Blood is the paint and the whip is his brush. He lashes out at each of them, several times, before turning to face the camera.*
Seromine! I will earn your grace back!
*As the camera fades out be drops the whip and picks a length of chain off the floor....*
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