PREVIEW

... hrust the pitchfork at him, its sharp tips having some kind of black oil on them, sticky and stinky.

Blaze simply steps backward, aiming the gun at the man’s head. He wants to see if he will back off if life-threatening danger is in his face. The man does not even flinch and keeps ramming the pitchfork forward.

"Remember. You wanted this."

Blaze pulls the trigger. Irony roars a white fire, and its bullet pierces through the skull of the man. He has no resistance at all an ...

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