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... etitive.

Moving my arm, I am once again in a garbage bag.

This time, I don't even lurch awake; I just sit there tracing the ceiling fan blades.

"Why do heroes always die! You were a good man, Graves."

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm really not. If you get to know me, you'll learn what a piece of shit I am."

Her eyes widen as she lurches back, grabbing the knife from the nightstand.

"Graves!?"

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...

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