He paced faster, stomping around. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. “A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety.
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