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(TFT) SOLO 001



SOLO III
Demon world
Part 001

You wake up. Candle light and a young lady crying. She has a knife held up next to her face. Her left hand is patting your chest. It feels sticky and damp. Her left hand reaches up and takes some of her own hair. Stretching it out she cuts it with the knife. She takes the hair and places it on your chest, gently patting it down. You may be bleeding. The cut hair is matting into the wound. The candle is on your right, she on your left. The roof overhead is a cut stone vault. You are laying on your back with no shirt on, bare stone underneath you. Skulls flicker in recessed niches along the walls. You want to speak, lick your lips and they feel moist and alive. Who are you? you ask. Your own voice sounds old and alien to you. She sniffs and holds back a sob. This eminently sad face turns to you. Eighteen and streaked with tears, red puffy eyes like she has been crying for hours. She says the strangest thing you have ever heard. That was the last potion uncle. You cant come back from the dead again. She slides the knife up the left sleeve of her ragged dress and you hear a click. With both hands she takes you by the shoulder and helps you to sit up. You know you are a very old man. Almost a hundred years. But your hands look younger. Maybe forty, or thirty. You realize you dont know your own name. This is a tomb. At your feet is an empty glass bottle trimmed in gold wire. You look at the girl in the candle light.
  Who am I? you ask.

  David Michael Grouchy II






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