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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1792237-Bloody-Fields
by Morcac
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1792237
A murder mystery. Please review. It needs revision.
Part one: The death of Fields



I felt defeated. Not because anything particularly bad had happened, but just because I was so very wet. Wet and cold as I traversed a large portion of London on foot. It was not a heavy rain, but it was the kind that soaks through your cloths and drenches every inch of your body. The tight from the lampposts gave the wet street a watery sheen, that wavered as you moved. As each droplet fell from the sky it his the ground and exploded into a thousand tiny spheres, glistening as they reflected the orange glow of the lamps and the cold light of the moon that could just be seen through the oppressive clouds. The street was wide, with tall buildings, and I walked in it’s center. There were no cars any more, not since the fuel crisis. No chance of the blaring headlights reflected a thousand times over by the falling water as it had been only a few years previous. It always rained in London, that was just a fact of life. Even before all the horrible disasters that our planet had undergone it had rained a lot. Now it never stops in many portions of Europe. I was nearing my destination, the houses were getting older and grander as I moved on. A flicker of hope and life came back into me. I was no longer walking out of pure habit, I had a purpose once more. I picked up pace, it was not far now. The rain picked up as I walked, and a wind was howling at my back. I passed an intersection and looked up at the road signs out of habit, though I knew my destination was straight ahead. I couldn’t read them anyway, the wind whipped the rain across their metallic surface obscuring the white words and names written in large letters. I was now counting the houses as I walked by. One. Two. Three... There, at the end of the block. I broke into a run, just to get out of the rain, I told myself. Yes, that was all. Six. Seven... Here I was. I turned to the house on my right and sprinted to the door. Just to get out of the rain. I knocked on the door. A woman answered, I knew her well. She had brown hair and sharp features.

“I have come to see...”

“I know I know.” She said.

I had come to that place too many times, just a few more visits and everything would be arranged I told myself, just a few more visits. The woman beckoned for me to follow her, though she knew perfectly well that I knew my way around by now. We walked down long, thin corridors with many wooden doors leading off the main hallway. The floor was carpeted and soft, so that your feet sank slightly with each step. We walked up an ornate spiral staircase, and down another hallway. By the time we got to the room at the end of the hall, my heart was in my throat.

“Goodbye Jennifer” I said, and she walked off without a word.

I stepped into the room with both feelings of longing and excitement. The room was simply furnished but had a since of grandeur about it. It was large, and the fact that it only had four pieces of furniture within it made it seem even bigger. There were two wooden chairs facing a large desk constructed of black wood. Sitting behind the desk, upon another chair was George Mathwells. He gestured for me to sit down, and I did. The chair was rather uncomfortable, looking back on things, but I didn’t notice at the time.

“So, do you have anymore information?” He asked.

“Yes, a little good, and a lot bad”

“What is it?”

“I am one hundred percent positive of the person who killed your father”

“That’s great then...”

“No, it isn’t, the murderer is Jason Fields.” I cut him off “I have enough evidence to convict just about anyone else, but not him. He has the funds to put any trial in his pocket. You know law these days. And if you bring him in dead, his family has enough money to pin it on you.”

He put his head in his hands. Unsuccessfully hiding the fact that his seamless, round face was streaked with tears. Reflecting the light from the lamp as they fell to the desk as the raindrops had not long before. They still were probably, I thought.

“It’s okay, I said. Life often finds it’s own ways of bringing things to justice, and revenge isn’t everything, it will not bring your father back.”

“But what will?” He asked in despair “and I’m not on the greatest terms with nature.”

It was true, he was not on the greatest terms with nature. He was one of the few who had the money to stockpile fuel before the crisis, his car was still working, though he used his supply of gasoline sparingly.

“Nothing will” I said “But you will just have to live on, there are other things in life. Not that this wasn’t a horrible tragedy, but life goes on.” I had put my hand on the table at some point during the conversation for emphasis. At this time he took it in his.

“Other things” He said with a smile.

I did not leave his house until very late that night, marveling at my luck. I had had no idea that he swung that way. I had hoped, but I really had doubted. I had good dreams when I slept that night. I woke up the next morning, a normal day, I thought. How wrong I was. I jumped down the stairs in my small house with a new spring in my step. I took no notice of the creaking wooden floor and the sheer disarray of my home. I was pretty well off, considering. I had a house at least. Most people lived on the streets. Quite a few of the houses were abandoned, but few dared to enter, there was always the chance that someone heavily armed had had the same idea first. You were lucky if you could buy a house, because that meant security. If a house looked lived in, nobody touched it. Anyone who could legally afford a house could also afford firearms and other means to protect their property. After that reputation had been gained and held true for a while, us homeowners no longer needed to carry arms to protect our property. I carried arms anyway, I had to. Being a detective was a dangerous business in those times, and most people you get locked up have friends. The police were a joke, so I guess the profession detective was upgraded to “intellectual bounty hunter.” It was always dead or alive if you could successfully prove your victim was guilty. Alive was preferred, as a trial made the police look better, but they didn’t care too much. They had lost nearly all respect already. I sat down at the table for a bowl of cereal and thought how lucky I was to have milk that hadn’t soured and food on my plate. It wasn’t the best food, but most were left to scavenge the city streets. I finished my breakfast and stepped outside, a bright new day. Literally, this was not true. The sunlight showing through the clouds made it brighter than night, but it was still as dim and dreary as ever. It was interesting how the rays of sunlight came through the clouds, in little patches that seemed overly bright due to the general lack of such. I guess it was literally bright, in comparison at least. I had no particular destination. Maybe I would go to the market, treat myself to a bit of fruit. Yeah it was expensive, but I had been paid well on recent cases I said to myself. That was all true. Still though, fruit was a rare treat to be saved up for. There was little business in the market and I wondered to myself how any of the people there made anything. I knew the answer though: the rich ones. The few that could afford easily bought more than they would ever need, then threw out the food that went bad before they could eat it. This refuse was all some could afford to have. I bought an apple, and on my way out I saw some particularly juicy looking pears. What the hell, I thought, and got one of those too.

I continued walking, waiting for something interesting to happen. Unfortunately, something did. Actually it had happened, but it was at that time that I discovered the aftermath. I had finished the pear and was slowly savoring the apple when I saw a commotion a bit away. As I drew in nearer, I realized that it was the Field mansion. I ran up closer to see what was happening. There was the Fields family, and the FA, a private, more reliable police force that the fields had set up themselves. The FA were basically mercenaries. The Fields told them that they wanted someone dead, they would kill them and pin a crime on their mutilated corpse. The worst part was that the Fields were pretending to be truly upset. Nothing ever upset them other than when their favorite shows were canceled. TV shows were canceled daily, with the lack of people watching and bringing money to the TV stations. Even they couldn’t bring down the TV companies though, so I assumed that they had some ulterior motive to “being upset” since they had the FA with them. I moved in closer and saw what they were all gathered around. It was the body of Jason Fields. I walked up another street, pretending not to be terribly concerned, then turned to the left. As Soon as I turned the corner I ran. As fast as I could, down street after street until I came to the house I had been to the night before. I knocked hard on the door, and when the woman answered I brushed by her without a word. I broke into a run after the first few steps, down the hall, up the staircase, and down the next hallway. I stopped a moment before shoving the door with all my might. It swung open, bounced off the wall, and closed again, but not before I had stormed into the room. I stared at the man to whom I had been so devoted for such a long while and yelled.

“Why did you kill him!? Everything is ruined now! They will kill you.”

“Who?” he asked

“Don’t play dumb!” I shrieked. “I know you killed him.”

“Who?” he asked again. “Jason Fields!” I said in exasperation.

“But I didn’t.” The worst part was that I believed him.



Part Two: Running



“Okay” I said, “well all evidence points to you. The FA will be on your tail any minute, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already at the door.”

“What do I do?” He asked.

“Firstly you need to leave this place before it’s surrounded.” I said calmly “I think I might now who committed the murder. You leave by the back door. Make your way to The Kero cafe on the far side of town. Do not use your car, it will draw attention to you. I will try to find some things out.”

I left the room without a word and immediately regretted not saying goodbye. When I reached the spiral staircase I looked back and saw him moving the other direction along the hallway. I wanted to speak to him, but I couldn’t, a knot was in my throat. What if he died? I sped up and went down the stairs, immediately feeling worse for not saying goodbye. Then I saw her, the woman who always answered the door.

“Hello” I said, I had never bothered before.

“Hello” She replied with a smile.

“Well Jennifer” I said slowly “You could be in very big trouble.”

She looked stunned “why is that?” she asked.

“Were you listening in on my conversation with George last night?”

“No” She said.

“Alright” I walked away, my mind was racing. If she was lying, she could be a prime suspect for the frame job. She would have known what George had against Jason before anyone else (besides me, of course). If she had something against him as well, she could have committed the crime knowing that Jason’s family had assumed George had found out. I’d have to look into it. George may be able to get out of this scotch free. Jason’s family would instead “arrest” Jennifer. They didn’t care who they caught, as long as it appeared to the outside world to be the murderer. To keep up appearances of course. I doubted highly that they actually cared about the death of a close relative. Other than to celebrate as his fortune was equally distributed to add to theirs. That was a thought... Maybe the Fields family had done it. In that case an innocent was going to die no matter what happened. I shuddered at the thought, I could save George, but then I would be throwing someone else undeserving out to the vultures. I shook the thought out of my head. I knew it wasn’t anyone in the Fields family. I was halfway to my house without realizing it. I quickly turned a corner and headed off in another direction. The direction of the city records building.

The place was worn down and disused, nobody bothered with it any more. There were some sections that were torched before people realized that nobody was even using them anymore. I made a silent prayer to the continued existence of the records I was looking for (if they existed at all in the first place). I walked across the cracked tiles, each step launching a small cloud of dust and ash into the air. I walked along the rows and rows of filing cabinets, looking at the labels. A... B... The entire C section was destroyed, along with some of B and D... E... It was getting dustier as I went... F... G... I paused in a fit of sneezing from the sheer amount of dust... H... I... J... Almost there... K... KI... Oh shit! There are filing cabinets strewn all over the floor in the Ki section. I search the rubble and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw the folder I had been looking for. After a moment I found the birth certificate. Kinsington, Jennifer. Daughter of Beatrice and Jacob Kinsington. I was just about to leave in search of Jennifer’s parents when another Piece of paper in the folder caught my eye. It was the death certificate of Jacob Kensington. I skimmed through it and saw that he had died in service of the FA. I slipped both sheets of paper into my pocket. It was nowhere near enough to do anything with, but it was a start. I had to try and find more evidence. I arrived before he did, I was used to wandering the streets. Still I worried, he had had a good head start. What if something had happened? I was sitting at a corner booth, with a white tablecloth on the surface in front of me. My seat was at an angle to the rectangular window so I could see anyone entering the cafe before they came in. After a good twenty minutes I saw George prepare to enter the cafe. A weight lifted from my chest. He stepped inside.

“What kept you?” I asked.

“The path I took was blocked by the FA, I had to make a detour.” He said as he sat down opposite me.

I frowned “did they see you?”

“I don’t think so,”

“Good, I have something to talk to you about.”

“What?” He asked.

“Did Jennifer hate Jason Fields for any reason?”

“As a matter of fact she did, she blamed the death of her father on him”

“Always with the father killing” I said “You’d think we were in some sort of action movie.”

“It isn’t just father killing. Jen’s mother disappeared after her father’s death. All the records stated that she had moved to Egypt, but she had never informed anyone of such a plan.”

“Okay, well let’s run this over, why would Jason kill her father?”

“He didn’t mean to, her father died in action. It was some ridiculously pointless and dangerous mission though.”

“And her mother?”

“She was going to sue, it was easier to kill her than to get pulled into a court case.”

“Alright,” I said “And we know your father was killed because he was a competitor with one of Jason’s small businesses.”

“Right.” Said George with a wince.

“I could successfully get you off the hook, and get the Fields to agree that Jennifer did it. They don’t really care who they kill anyway, it wouldn’t be too hard.”

“I would never expect her to do such a thing!”

“Neither would I” I said with a tone of sadness “You are both innocent, but one of you will have to die.”

He looked crestfallen, and didn’t speak for a long while. Finally he asked

“What will happen now?”

“Now I have to choose, I have to tell them that one of you was the murderer. You can only run from the FA for so long, and if they catch you, having realized that you’ve been running, you’ll die too for resisting arrest.”

Just then I saw two FA agents moving in for the door. I pulled George to his feet and shoved him over the counter of the cafe, we ran through the kitchens and out the back entrance. We ran and ran for some time. Down the cobblestone streets, through thin alleyways. Finally we stopped to rest. After breathing hard for a few minutes George asked me

“Why does it have to be one of us? Why can’t you just lock up the real murderer.”

“Just trust me” I said, “I’ve been doing me research, I couldn’t do that.”

Just at that moment two FA officers walked around the corner. Before they knew (or I knew, for that matter) what was happening I had drawn my gun and fired twice. Their extensive body armor did not protect their heads!

“Run!” I said, knowing full well that as soon as they realized two officers were out of contact the entire area that they were patrolling would be swarming with the bastards.

We were off again, moving through the seemingly endless streets that spread out all over the place like a length of highly tangled string. We put as much distance as we could between ourselves and that place before busting into a house and trusting to luck that it was not occupied. Sadly luck had not really been on my side lately. The moment I opened the door three guns were pointed at my chest. I looked around, surveying my surroundings. It was an old place with peeling wallpaper, and had obviously not been lived in long, everything was still coated with a layer of dust and there were sleeping bags in a room off to the side. I then turned my attention to the immediate problem. One of the men still had the safety on his gun, another’s hand was shaking, but the third had a firm grip. I gestured my hand behind my back for George, who had not yet stepped inside, to move out of the way of the door-frame. I just hoped that he understood.

“Hello” I said, my fingers twitching over the handle of my revolver “Why don’t you guys just leave this place, before I get angry.”

The brave one guffawed “You seem to be a nice fella', but we aren’t, you don’t get the option of leaving.”

I smiled, then in one sudden motion drew my gun and leaped between two of the men rolling onto my back in midair. The one who had spoken to me shot at the space where I had been and I saw with a pang of worry that George was still in the door-frame. What if he was hit by a stray bullet? No time to worry about that though, I lifted my gun and shot the brave one as he turned around. He fell in a pool of blood. The other two turned and one fired, but his hands were still shaking and he missed. I shot him too. The last one ran. I let him go, he had his safety on, he can’t have been that bad... Then I saw George, sprawled on the ground. The shot that had come while diving out of the way had hit him. No, I thought, this can’t be happening. I rushed to him and with relief that it had just grazed his forehead, he had only fainted. I dragged him inside, and carried him up the stairs. I found a bed and laid him on it, shutting the bedroom door behind me. I then moved the two bodies to the basement and mopped up the blood with one of their pillows. We were safe... For now. With nothing better to do I set to work. I closed all the blinds and tore up some floorboards as fortifications. It was best that nobody knew that a house was fortified, hence the closing of the blinds. I boarded the windows and locked the door, I also blocked it with a heavy sofa for good measure. I then set about to making all the rooms bright enough for some light to seep through the shutters. As I said before, nobody enters a lived in house, or one that appears that way at least. Then, just for good measure, I propped a mop up on the sofa so that it reached the bottom step of the staircase, making the whole thing a great ordeal to push out of the way. Next was to come up with an escape route. I looked all around the house, there was only one door, but I saw that the back wall was constructed of rotting wood and weak. I found a shovel and placed it near there so that we could break the wall in a pinch. I walked up to see how George was doing. God it was boring being the only one awake. He was, of course, still sleeping. For lack of anything else to do I went to the basement to see if the corpses might have anything useful on them. They didn’t, I was about to walk back upstairs when I thought of something. I took a rifle off one of them. I’d have to remember to give George my revolver when he woke up, as he probably wouldn’t be able to deal with the kickback of the other rifle. I then sat on the stairs, aimed the rifle at the door, and waited for something interesting to happen.

After what seemed like an age, George came down the stairs.

“We can hide out here for now.” I said, “but they will find us eventually”

“You can choose her” He said.

“I’ve already decided. I shouldn’t have made you run, that forced my decision, they will kill you.”

“So you choose her?”

“No”

“But how can you win having chosen me? I’ll die either way.”

“I didn’t choose either of you. I chose both.”



Part Three: Fighting



“What?” he asked.

“Look, I can’t let either of you die... So it can be me.”

“How?”

“Simple, I walk up, confess, then try to kill as large a portion of the Fields family as I possibly can, just because I’m a little pissed.”

“But won’t I still get killed for resisting arrest?”

“I’ll say I kidnapped you.”

“But... You’re innocent too”

“Not as innocent as you might believe” I said with a smile “here” I handed him my revolver.

“Why would I need this?”
“Just in case, there’s a rifle in the basement if you need it, and if you go to the back of the house there’s a shovel propped against the wall. The wall is weak, you can break a whole section quickly with the shovel. Just if you need to escape... When on the run don’t go by any of the little Xs on this map” I handed him a map of London I had made myself, with all sorts of little noted on the FA, places for food, abandoned houses, and the like. It was good that he didn’t respond immediately, I was choked up and it gave me time to regain my composure.

“Why does it have to be you?” He asked

“I deserve it” I said “After a fashion, at least.”

“But...”

“Block the door behind me, in the same way that it is now. I wish there was some way we could keep in contact until...”

“There is!” He said.

“How?”

“Remember the old days? When there used to be cell phones”

“Yeah, but none of the towers...”

He cut me off “Yes yes, none of the towers are working but I have been tinkering with a few... I managed to get them to link to each other within a two mile radius.”

“That’s brilliant!” I exclaimed as he handed me one “I didn’t know you were into mechanics.”

“It’s sort of a hobby, I guess we spent all our time talking about my father rather than getting to know each other... I regret that now.”

“As do I, but it’s too late now.”

“I will miss you”

“I’ll miss me too” I said with a laugh as I pushed aside the couch and headed out the door.

I knew that I was going to my death... Best to make it quick, I sped up my pace. I had had fruit today, maybe I would have bought more if I had known it would have been my last time to eat it. Before I was ready I was walking towards the doorstep of the Fields mansion. The two guards at the door didn’t even bother to draw their guns when they saw mine in my hand. It was suicide to attempt a frontal assault... Any assault for that matter. They were both dead before they had any idea what was happening. I then took the bodies and busted open the door to the house across the street. Nobody was in there, thank god. I set to dressing in the uniform, then I took the communications systems out of the helmets. I stomped on one before saying slowly and clearly into the other

“I killed Jason Fields, you might want to send in some troops before you die too!” Then I dropped the device on the floor and shot it. I put down the rifle in exchange for the more powerful variant carried by the FA. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a roll of duct-tape. ‘You never know in times like these’ I always told myself when I was getting ready to go out. I called George on the cell, when he ad answered I attached it to the inside of one of the helmets. Constant contact.

“If I scream, of don’t talk for more than 5 minutes, hang up!” I told George. “We don’t want anyone tracing the call.”

“Alright” He said.

I then knocked out a portion of the ceiling of the house and taped the other rifle there. I checked my pockets... no string... Ah well, it would still work. I found six grenades in all amidst all of the weaponry the two agents had carried. I taped them to a wall and attached the pins to the door handle with a long strand of duct-tape. I then went up to the roof again and carefully aimed the gun at a window. Then I taped down the trigger and ran out the back door.

“You under fire?” Asked George at the sound.

“No, but I will be.” I replied, “It’s about to start...”

I hid in the bushes near the house as an entire team predictably bashed down the door and charged inside. The gun atop the house ran out of bullets and everything was silent for a split second that seemed to take an age. Suddenly a small light appeared in the house, small, but very bright. Everything moved at the proper speed again and with a tremendous deafening bang fire was shooting everywhere, the entire bottom floor of the house was demolished, and the top fell after a moment of being held up by the wave of hot air shooting into the sky. It looked like a cartoon, where the character stands in surprise over the edge of a cliff before realizing that they should be falling. Funny what your mind thinks of when it knows that it will soon be gone. I really had no plan, while the explosion may have been fun and spur of the moment I really didn’t know what to do next. Run towards the house probably, I had to at some point, and anyway, the bushes were on fire.

“You still there?”

“Yeah” I replied as I walked calmly towards the still open door of the mansion.

He didn’t say anything else, he was just checking I assumed. As I stepped inside everyone ignored me for a moment, I was wearing the uniform after all. That gave me time to open fire. The FA guns were nice, even semi-automatic. The three guards in the entry hall had not even finished drawing their guns when they were dead on the floor. The advantage of these guns would be used against me later I thought to myself. I quickly dropped my gun and picked up one from one of the bodies. I grabbed a few grenades as well. The house was built of stone, on the outside it looked simply grand, but from the inside it looked like a tower within a castle. There was a spiral staircase and three hallways leading off from the large entry room. Down the staircase rushed eight FA officers, weapons already drawn. I fired, and tore apart the first three, then rushed down the hallway. For the most part they missed, but two shots clinked off my armor as I ran around a bend. They were not used to a truly armored opponent, nor one with the aim to get past theirs, but I assumed that they would learn fast. How long would my luck hold? Not long, as it turned out.

“Hey, you there?” George asked

“Yeah”

“They’re trying to break down the door.”

“What!? Who?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see out”

“Well they’re obviously not friendly” I said “Shoot as soon as they get through the door, and don’t shoot through it, you don’t want to give them any ideas.”

At this time I found myself at a dead end. I tried the door to my right, locked. I tried to blow the lock. Damn, tough metal, was it a vault or something? I turned and readied myself to shoot until I dropped when my opponents ran around the corner. Grenades! I had forgot I had them. I threw one at an angle so that is bounced off the opposite wall and into the hallway I had run down moments before. I readied another, then something hard connected with the back of my head, and I remembered no more for some time.

When I woke I was strapped to a table. The moment my eyes flickered a voice from somewhere in front of me spoke

“Who sent you?”

I did not respond. My head hurt so much.

“Who sent you?” The voice asked again, louder this time.

Slowly my vision began to clear, there was an FA member beside me, and around the table was the entire Fields family. It was Brendan, Jason’s brother, who was talking.

“I came myself” I said groggily “Now why don’t you just kill me to get this whole thing over with.”

“Not yet, we know that you had no particular motive to risk your life here. Who has paid you to do this.”

I came up with a story fast “I wanted your money” I said, “And how the hell did you knock me out?”

Brendan smiled “Jill here hit you with her door when she opened it to see what the commotion was.”

I laughed “I guess any great warrior can be brought down by a well placed door...”

“What you say seems believable enough, I will let you die now...” He took a sword off the wall. Always with the dramatic I thought as the sword came down. I guess their need of that is kind of fortunate. Wait, why is it fortunate? My brain was still numb, but without thinking I used all my strength to push myself slightly to the side. I was only bound by a few ropes. I managed to move enough for the sword to only graze my shoulder blade... It all happened so suddenly, consciously I did not realize that the ropes had been cut, but something inside me obviously knew. I drew the rifle from the FA guard’s holster and Shot Brendan in the chest. I had not bothered killing the guard first, I thought he was unarmed. I was wrong, his baton hit me in the back of the head. I flee off the bed onto the floor. The Fields were not running, they evidentially thought I was still unconscious. I stood up shooting, I hit the guard and every single member of the family. They all fell. I paused, knowing what I had to do. I found Brendan’s body, he was the only one I had shot in the head, no bloody hole in the cloths, though there was a bit of blood. I traded cloths with him and found a portable radio in his pocked, like the ones the police used to use. I assumed it transmitted on the FA frequency.

“He’s dead.” I said, “But he killed my family. We need to have a meeting soon, I think it’s time to put some new values to the forefront of our operation. With that done I fainted from the pain. When I woke up I was in a comfortable bed. I found my radio on the table.

“Bring me the stuff acquired from that bastard that killed my family.” I said. A few guards came in and brought me the stuff. I untaped the cell phone from the helmet, and after the guards had left I called George.

“That you?” He asked

“Yeah, they’re dead, all of them, but from now on you are to call me Brendan Fields.”

He broke into joyous laughter. Over the next few weeks the FA underwent some changes. They became the respectable police force of London. People speculated as to why Brendan had had such a change of heart, but none investigated too deeply. They didn’t want to upset whatever kind god had given this gift to the. My name was no longer Clide Hilton, but I had never liked it anyway. George came into my room and I smiled.

“Life is good.” I said.

“Yes, life is good.”

“So you never told me, who was trying to break down the door?”
“Oh, just one of those guys in the house we took, I shot him.”

“Damn, I shouldn’t have let him go.”

“Ah well what’s done is done... Oh, you never told me, who really killed Jason Fields.”

“Oh,” I said with a laugh, “me.”
© Copyright 2011 Morcac (morcachomrin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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