"I do not mind dying," the child whispered.  "My cause is just, my blood is clensed, and," he said, his eyes and blade laying upon his visitor, "I know I  not die alone."

"I do not mind dying," the child whispered. "My cause is just, my blood is clensed, and," he said, his eyes and blade laying upon his visitor, "I know I not die alone."

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    From the Precious Memories Chapel somewhere in the middle of America where rape is free and sick is king.
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