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Gold Powder
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...As you are about to drop her into the pit, she says one last thing to you.
"Check the counter," She laughs a little, some remaining spite and joy in her despite it all. You snap your hand and tear off her head and hurl it down after the tumbling corpse. You step back into the house.
Inside of the house, in the kitchen you find a stack of papers. One of which is a medical bill of a somewhat recent abortion.
The blood smearing from your hands does not help your heart. It rises into your throat and sobs and whimpers escape.
You set the house on fire and trudge away. You can't seek revenge twice. It's already over. You do not feel you have won, but you are free.
Freedom has its costs.
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