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The Truth Will Be Found

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Yelena sits on a road between Miroslavl and Kirovograd. Her eyes torn with dark circles under her eyes and redness from the days of crying. 
She holds her radio in her hand, slumped over in her chair and seated in the position which seemed life hours.
She stares at the ground, cheek healing of a bruise marked from a hand.
She would talk on the radio in a somewhat calm tone but the pure hatred perceives a lot stronger.

"I was there when you lost self.
I was there trying to pick up pieces.
When you had no one, I was there.

And you threw it all back in face.

You use people to find weakness.
To use against them.

Play little victim card.
Play old man card who need walking stick.
Play innocence when really you are the devil in disguise.

Your new friends, they soon find out what sort of coward man you are.
Just like I did.

Fool once, shame on you.
Fool twice, shame me.

They will find out what real person you are.

Now I know why Fae woman did what did.
Now I know why you hit on head.
Next person near you piss off when you not coware behind innocent people - you will be dead Grachi."

The radio cuts off with the final spiteful tone, leaving nothing but white noise.

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*He lights his cigarette, 8th of the day, with a frown on his face from the distraught woman*

"Well that was fuckin' deep wadn't it? Really put me out of my mood if I'm being honest with ye.. I don't know what kind of shitty people your talking about but I can probably relate."

*Thinking back on his past, remembering all those he has lost and those who had abandoned him, he takes a long puff and continues talking.*

"Maybe these cunts who've done ye wrong have made ya untrustworthy, but not everyone's like dem. I'm... Not like dem. I'm not tryna come across as a big fuckin' fuck boy or anything, but, if ya need any help down the road, you can ask for the likes of me. Unless your a cannibal, murderer, or fuckin' psychopath. Then, I want nun' to do with ye.. Take care  Beor."

*Remembering the Irish accent, he finishes his cigarette and reads over some notes from an active case*


Beor// Lovely, Sweet, Charming


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*Denis looks at the shattered bottle on the table, moving the pieces one by one with his finger, on top of each other. He thinks. Piece by piece. He presses the ptt.*

"T-the truth can be shattered with few words. T-the pieces can be glued together slowly and p-painfully. But you w-will never get the truth you want. I t-tried. But you didn't listen."

*Few droplets of blood stain the clear glass, from cuts on his hands and fingers. He looks at them with interest.*

"My m-memories are like mozaika... Shattered and wrong. But at the same time... beautiful. I r-remember now more than when I crawled away from you in fear. F-fear of you knowing me. When I d-didn't know you. B-but I remember. A lot more. Who I were. What I did. Who m-many others are, and what they did. And w-what happened to me."

*He squeezes his hand together, lifting his arm up, blood slowly flowing down his wrist onto his arm.*

"We all are l-living on spare time. G-g-granted by others. Maybe I am the devil? W-would be fitting for a man like me. Wouldn't it?"

*He looks at the tower of bloody glass in front of him.*

"I didn't get hit to my head by anyone. I fell. While talking to Shock. While looking for someone I care for. Frantically."

*He sets the radio onto table, standing up and leaning onto it. After few moments of silence he swings his arm to the glass, making it fly all across the room, onto the floor.*

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Fae's voice breaks the static, her usually cocky and obnoxious attitude replaced with monotone speech.

I'm usually right, yet people are always surprised. 
My actions are usually for a reason.


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*The butcher smirks at hearing this latest radio broadcast before responding*

"Well this was great to listen to, seems you're starting to lose support old man... you're unfortunately not the devil because that would belong to someone a lot more cold, quiet and calculating than yourself old man... Well until next time."

*The butcher puts his radio down and looks over the city infront of him*

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