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**************************************************************
Warning: This story is written for mature readers ages 18 
and older.  The characters and events portrayed are purely 
fictional.

Disclaimer: This is my first posting, be gentle.  Comments/
flames/etc, are welcome.
**************************************************************

Distant Calls 
Chapter 1 - The Claim

(c) 1998 By Ptah (neoptah@hotmail.com)

	A thud echoed across the room, causing heads to raise 
from their respective studies and fire a volley of  
disapproving glares at the source of the noise.   One pair of 
eyes rose a moment later, the smile creasing the features of 
his face, a sharp contrast to the sea of unwavering frowns 
and sneers. Like the others however, the eyes rested on the 
same person, following the lines of her form straight down 
to the floor before rising again and anchoring on her face.  
A soft sigh escaped his lips, lost amidst the soft rustle of 
pages turning and the constant tattoo of pen to paper.  

	Another flurry of noise followed shortly after the first 
as she yanked a chair free from the table, its legs screeching 
in protest and rewarding her with a chorus of Shhhhhs and 
finger pointing.  She offered an apologetic smile, turning 
her back on every one else and retreating into her mountain 
of dog-eared books and frayed notepads.  The ritual 
continued as always, a few minutes of rummaging through 
her backpack producing a gnawed pencil, two colored 
highlighter pens and a chunk of eraser.

	Her hands fell to her side, smoothing the black skirt 
that spilled along her legs, nipping at her ankles.  Her lips 
parted in a yawn, fingers wiggling and arms pointed toward 
a bank of buzzing florescent lights. The oval lenses 
hugging the bridge of her nose caught light as her neck 
turned, stretching in anticipation of what looked like a long 
study session.  From beneath those same lenses blue eyes 
peered upward, head falling reluctantly forward and 
focusing on the first book waiting on the que.

	Others in the room quickly lost interest, turning back 
to their own studies as soon as she had settled into her seat.  
One pair of eyes remained, a smile still resting a few inches 
below them.  They drank in her every movement, every rise 
and fall of her chest, every sniffle and sigh.  The paperback 
book that half-veiled his expression drooped closer and 
closer to the table's surface, touching down as he reached 
up to brush a few errant strands of hair from his eyes.  The 
ritual continued to unfold, his fingers knitting together on 
the table before him as she moved on to the next book.  The 
room around him seemed to blur and fade away, the lines 
of her body drawing his gaze repeatedly to the soft swell of 
her breasts.  The watcher began to study her openly, 
confident that she would only offer an awkward smile in 
response to his stare, if she noticed at all.

	She began to shift in her seat, stretching as she 
glanced down at her left wrist, a frown creasing her 
features.  Her admirer dipped a hand into the pocket of his 
overcoat, tugging out a small charm bracelet and dangling 
it before him.  His gaze grew lazy as light danced between 
each charm, bringing them to his lips and pressing a soft 
kiss to each in turn.  He dropped the chain to the table, 
sliding his palm over the metal links to keep them out of 
sight.  The press of something that had been so close to her 
coaxed his eyes completely shut, a soft sight escaping his 
lips and creating a soft rustle among the slips of paper 
covering his desk.   

Involuntarily he pressed down harder on the bracelet, 
the weak metal giving in until it was pressed almost 
flattened, jagged bits of once finely crafted keepsakes 
drawing blood.  His lip twitched violently as a flicker-flash 
of images paraded across his mind's eye, drawing several 
more deep breaths before his eyes inched open once again.  
They narrowed immediately at the sight of the woman 
across the room, crimson tendrils snaking from his 
fingertips as he drew his hand away from the bracelet.

	He turned his hand over, watching the liquid 
collecting in the creases of his flesh, flowing over old scars 
and along his pinky until pooling at the tip.  Reaching into 
his pocket with the other hand he withdrew a handkerchief, 
wrapping it quickly around the damaged hand and re-
depositing the bracelet.  

Across the room, She began to rise, collecting her 
books and making as much noise leaving as she did upon 
her arrival.  The Watcher blinked several times, glancing at 
the clock as his subject slipped out of the library.  He 
watched the doors open, sheets of rain slamming into the 
quarry as she slipped out. She let out a shriek and settled 
the stack of books atop her head as she began sprinting 
down the sidewalk, using the books as a makeshift 
umbrella.  The thud of her boots echoed loudly for some 
time as she fled from the storm.  

	Inside, The Watcher took one last glance of disbelief 
at the clock and rose.  There was a dull ache in his left hand 
as he gathered up his notes, shoving them unceremoniously 
into a small satchel. As he slung the bag over his shoulder 
he took one final survey of the library, weaving his way 
through the network of desks and information booths.  He 
paused at the door, peering out before pushing his way out 
into the storm. 

	He was soaked in a manner of seconds, his tennis 
shoes protesting with an exaggerated squelch as he picked 
his way through narrow alleyways and near-deserted 
streets.  Fingers ran through his hair, disheveling the 
patches of tangled black.  He smiled to himself as he passed 
a store window.  The reflection staring back at him was 
pitiful.  His beige overcoat hugged his body, pasted into 
place by wave after wave unrelenting rain.  Battered tennis 
shoes continued their wet clop as he splashed through rain-
greedy potholes.  His pace remained casual, there was no 
hurry.  He'd been following her home for months now, 
occasionally renting a room in the motel across from her 
apartment.  The time for watching was over.

He patted his left pocket as he crossed the street that 
was home to one of her favorite coffee shops.  He peered 
briefly inside to make sure she hadn't stopped in after her 
trip to the library as she did every so often.  His gaze 
danced from one patron to the next in a manner of seconds.  
He could easily pick her out of a crowd of hundreds. 

 Another quick scan confirmed that she wasn't there.  
He pushed ahead, tugging his coat closer to his body.  He 
shrugged the small pack higher onto his shoulder, a barely 
audible metallic clang echoing from it as it tapped a metal 
pole.  The sound brought a sudden smile to The Traveler's 
lips as he spotted the silhouette of Her building, gaze 
immediately finding a dimly lit window on the third floor.  

	He trotted across one final strip of asphalt, dodging a 
number of large potholes.  Her apartment was nestled 
between several larger buildings, all of which looked as if 
they might collapse in a strong gust of wind.  He shook his 
head, passing through a pair of double doors and arriving at 
the bottom of a narrow stairwell.  A row of battered 
mailboxes winked dully back at him under flickering lights, 
dirt cached windows glowing as lighting flickered outside.  

He began to climb the stairs at the same casual pace, 
his calm demeanor betrayed only by the anxious curling 
and uncurling of his fingers as they dragged along the stairs 
railing.  As he arrived at the third floor his hand dipped into 
his jacket pocket, returning a moment later with the small 
bracelet.

	He came to a stop at a door marked #304, in tarnished 
brass letters.  His fingers closed around the door's knocker, 
tapping it three times.  His hand remained at the knocker, 
the bracelet twined between his fingers and dangling 
directly in front of the door's peephole.  As his hand left he 
brought the bracelet to his face, studying it as his knocks 
went unanswered.  He continued the process a few more 
times, his tri-thuds occasionally drowned out by the 
continuing roar of thunder outside.  

	Finally, there was a flurry of clicks from the room 
beyond, followed by the groan of the door as a sliver of 
light peeked from the entrance.  A gold colored chain kept 
the door from opening entirely.  Without warning a half-
face peered into the hallway, boasting the same blue eyes, 
sans glasses, that he had studied less than an hour ago.  The 
figure taking refuge behind the door asked hesitantly, 
"Where'd you get that?"  A momentarily flick of her eyes 
tagged the bracelet as the subject of inquiry.

	The rain drenched figure offered her the most 
miserable smile in his repertoire, sneezing a few times 
before answering, "You dropped it a few days back in the 
library, spotted it by your table a while after you left."  He 
frowned as she blinked several times at him, pausing 
momentarily, he continued, asking, "This is yours isn't it?"  
His gaze ran over the bracelet, "It got smooshed a bit 
though, think someone stepped on it.""

	From behind the door she watched him, craning her 
neck slightly to study the bracelet.  She gnawed on her 
lower lip, trying to bite back laughter at the sight before 
her.   He would probably be attractive if left to dry out for 
awhile.  The smooth lines of his jaw and lack of facial hair 
gave him a boyish appearance.  A small puddle had begun 
to collect around his mangled tennis shoes, inching towards 
her door.  He shuffled back and forth with a nervous energy 
that forced a tiny smile to her lips.

	She nodded once, her own hair still damp from the 
storm and falling forward to veil her expression, "Yeah, I 
thought I'd lost it." and snaked her arm out of the door, 
palm up.  The stranger pressed his own hand to hers, 
depositing the band of trinkets into hers and lightly 
brushing fingertips.  He smiled inwardly as her fingers 
stuttered against his and she retracted her arm through the 
crack.  She stepped away from the door long enough to 
tuck the keepsake away and return, asking, "How'd you 
track me down?"

	He pitched forward in a fit of coughing, offering her a 
smile as his gaze met hers again, "I was headed into the 
library when I caught a glimpse of you."  His speech was 
interrupted momentarily by a trio of sniffles, "It was a bitch 
keepin' up with you, but I did manage to see you duck into 
the apartment."  He reached into his pocket, pulling out a 
wad of tissues and blowing hard as he asked, "Didn't you 
hear me trying to get your attention?"

	She shook her head, studying him intently as if trying 
to figure out exactly what to make of him, "No."

	Laughing softly he shoved the wad back into his 
pocket, "Well it was a touch loud out there.  Of course you 
have to live on the very top floor, and being the genius I 
am, it took me a good ten minutes to notice the trail of 
rainwater leading up to your place."  He smiled, "Anyway, 
having done my good deed for the day I suppose I'll get 
going."  He raised his arm in a wave as he began to step 
backwards, "Take it easy ... ?" his speech fading in implied 
question.

	She glanced down at the chain, shaking her head as 
she slipped it off and pried open the door.   One hand 
remained at the belt of the flimsy robe that hugged the 
curves of her body while she extended the other in greeting 
and thanks, "Stephanie Walters, and thanks, thanks a lot. 
The bracelet means a lot to me."

	She shook her head again, "I have an umbrella around 
here somewhere, you look like you could use it.  You can 
just drop it off sometime, or catch me at the library."

	He nodded quickly, splashing the door to her 
apartment in the process, "That'd be great.  Don't suppose I 
could impose on you for a towel too?"  He added the last 
with the same crooked smile he had greeted her with.

	Her gaze once again traveled over his form, 
completing the motion with a slight nod.   She replied 
quickly, "Not a bother.", and motioned him inside, pulling 
the halves of her robe closer together as she slipped 
towards what the visitor already knew to be her bedroom.

	"Just a sec." She called over her shoulder as she 
disappeared through the doorway.

	He watched the movement of her shadow against a 
distant wall, smiling as she awkwardly stumbled from one 
stack of clothing to the other.

	"Excuse the mess, I'm in the middle of some major 
house cleaning."  The silhouette scratched its head as 
phantom lips parted in speech, "I don't think I caught your 
name?"

	"Desmond." He replied, chuckling quietly to himself 
as he began locking the door behind him.  As the chain slid 
into place he stepped away and began a leisurely stroll 
towards the bedroom.   He paused at the phone, 
disconnecting the wire as the shadow turned its back.

	"Well, thanks again Desmond, that little trinket has 
been with the family for quite aw--."  The spectre stooped 
down as something tipped over in the bedroom, cursing 
softly to itself.

	"I know.." was Desmond's response as his sneakers 
announced his arrival by vomiting a small gout of water 
onto the bedroom floor.

	She glanced up at him, head tilted in curiosity.  The 
robe had slid away to reveal the entirety of her left leg.  The 
top of the robe had parted just enough to expose a good 
portion of the stained white bra that appeared to almost bite 
into her flesh.  Her face flushed red, first in shame, then in 
sudden anger as she pulled herself up, cinching the belt of 
her robe tightly.

	She pointed towards the other room, "Maybe it'd be 
better if you waited outside."  Her anger dwindled with 
each word, dulled by the flash of the lightning outside.

 	Desmond's smile shone with a B-movie brilliance as 
he shook his head.  He stepped forward, eyes dragging 
slowly over her, deliberately lingering where the robe 
threatened to part again.   His voice was soft as he spoke, "I 
couldn't do that Stephanie, not after all the work I've 
done."

	The figure that had appeared so comical just moments 
ago now approached Stephanie with a glance that could 
flay skin from bone.  She took an involuntary step 
backward, the lines of her face merging into a roadmap of 
confusion and fear, "What're you talking about?"  She 
pointed to the door again, "Get out, my boyfriend will be 
here any minute."

	Laughter spilled from Demonds lips, a sick sort of 
mirth that caused Stephanie's stomach to clench, "Your 
boyfriend?"    He reached out, fingers closing around the 
wrist of her outstretched arm, "You're a pathetic liar, 
always have been."

	Her brows once again knitted in confusion, `Alwa-" 
Her speech degenerated into a gargle of pain as her arm has 
wrenched painfully around, pulling the rest of her body 
with, her back towards her attacker.  She twisted in his grip 
but succeeded only in bringing herself even closer to him.  
A pitiful, "No." was her only protest as he pinned her arm 
to her stomach, pressing himself almost flush to her back.

	He caught a glimpse of her expression in the full-
length mirror at the opposite end of the room, the friction of 
her struggle causing a sigh of pleasure to escape his lips 
and wash against her bare neck.  Her eyes were already wet 
with tears, lids heavy as if trying to escape into slumber.  
There was a silence as his free hand snaked along her belly, 
under her pinned arm and clawing for the robe's belt.  This 
was followed by a flurry of movement as she whimpered in 
protest.

	As she squirmed Desmond stamped a few light kisses 
to her neck, whispering, "That feels wonderful Stephanie, 
you always were such the fighter.  I'm glad to see some 
things never change." His fingers yanked at the robes 
binding, the strip of fabric falling to the sides of her robe.  
Stephanie's body stiffened, breath catching as his fingertips 
made contact with the newly exposed flesh.  His nails 
dragged lightly over her soft skin, one finger circling her 
belly button.

	Her tormentor continued to speak as he casually 
explored her body, "I bet it has been a long time since 
anyone's touched you Stephanie, hasn't it?" His fingers ran 
briefly over her pinned arm, stroking the fine hairs that 
were invisible to everything but touch.  They climbed 
upward with every breath, index finger tracing a loose arc 
where fabric once again thwarted his progress.

She began to swat his fingers away with her free hand, 
her movements only causing her robe to fall open even 
further.  His neck craned as he planted a trail of soft kisses 
along her neck, his fingers finding their way to her chin and 
forcing her gaze to the full length mirror across the room.

	The figure staring back at her sniffled, a steady stream 
of tears escaping the corner of her eyes.  Stephanie felt a 
momentary twinge of pity for the miserable creature across 
the room.  Her twins hair was still damp and occasionally 
slipped forward, only to be pushed away again by the fiend 
pressed to her back.  Her body was in fairly good shape, a 
slight pinch at her stomach speaking of an unfulfilled 
promise to escape to the gym every so often.   Ample 
breasts were held in place by a bra that appeared to be a 
size too small.  The taut fabric was near threadbare and 
proudly boated what looked like a coffee stain.

	The lower half of her body began with a dramatic flare 
of the hips, followed by long legs that pressed tightly 
together to protect the soft swell nestled between.  A pair of 
white briefs protected her from the probing glare of the 
figure behind her.  Her whole body shook in fear, 
frustration, and rage as she twisted in Desmond's grip, her 
subdued whimper gradually gaining strength and 
transforming into a series of hissed curses.

	Stephanie closed her eyes to escape the image, from 
the realization that the figure across the room was her.  
Fingers ran through her hair, yanking her head back to gaze 
into a pair of hungry eyes.  The thin lips settled below those 
eyes spoke to her in a cold whisper as her own lips formed 
a small O and showered Desmond's face with spittle. 

	He blinked several times before his tongue peeked out, 
washing over his own lips as he laughed down at her, "You 
make such a wonderful show of it, but I am tired of games 
now."  He shoved her head forward again, a foot pressing 
at the seam of her legs, whispering, "Spread your legs like 
a good girl and you won't get hurt..."

	She twisted suddenly at his words, the elbow of her 
free arm driving into his stomach and forcing him back a 
few steps.  Stunned and unable to comprehend her freedom  
Stephanie simply spun, staring at Desmond as he pitched 
forward, his hand clutching his stomach.  As the reality of 
her situation once again clicked she rushed past him, 
knocking him slightly off balance in the process.

	Screaming, she rushed to the door, her footsteps 
thudding loudly against the floor.  As her fingers scrambled 
to undo the array of locks keeping her prisoner she 
continued to scream, hoping to draw some attention to the 
tiny apartment.  Her fingers closed around the last lock, her 
other hand tugging the door wide open.

	The knob of the door was wrenched suddenly from her 
grip as a foot slammed against the door, hammering it shut 
once again.  She turned around just in time to see a hand 
settle on her shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh and 
yanking her towards and past Desmond's form.  She could 
hear the locks clicking again as inertia carried her forward, 
depositing her on top of a wooden coffee table with a 
deafening crack.  She screamed again as the piece of 
furniture collapsed beneath her, ragged fingers of wood 
scraping a series of scarlet channels down her back.  

	The robe, which had half-obscured her body, now 
dangled uselessly from one shoulder, tripping her up as she 
tried to stand.  She collapsed a few feet from the bedroom, 
tangled completely in the fabric as she tried to push 
upwards again.  Without warning she was flung another 
several feet as a foot connected with her side.  The force 
sent her tumbling past the doorway of the bedroom.  As she 
raised her head she caught sight of Desmond's hand 
swooping down in a violent arc, the end of which was the 
side of her face.

	She rolled once again with the blow, her right leg 
coming up in a half-hearted counter as Desmond circled her 
now prone form.  All strength fled her body, unable to even 
crawl away from him she sat and panted.  She watched as 
he circled, her cracked lips issuing hundreds of apologies at 
once, pleading for impossibilities.  He looked disappointed 
as she continued to babble away, finally pausing directly in 
front of her.

	"You've disappointed me Stephanie, I expected more 
of a fight then that."  His hands went to the buckle of his 
belt as he spoke, very slowly tugging the strip of leather 
free.

	She blinked up at him, tears clouding her vision as she 
croaked back at him, "Please, I've got money, I can get 
more...I won't tell anyone..please.."  Her speech faltered as 
she watched his hands, shrinking backwards as she 
continued, "Please.."

	The hands continued working, hands much too 
powerful to be attached to the rail-thin frame standing 
before her.  Even with the force behind the earlier blows 
she had sensed he had been holding back.  The sound of a 
zipper caused Stephanie to slam her eyes shut, the motion 
doing nothing to thwart the flow of tears.

	"LOOK AT ME."  Desmond demanded as soon as her 
eyes closed.  As they sprung back open she gasped sharply, 
the power of his voice against her mind more powerful than 
any physical punishment he had subjected her to so far.

	In his right hand was cradled an implement boasting 
an expression that mirrored the rage stenciled across 
Desmond's face.  His hand pumped casually back and forth 
along its length as he stared down at her, "Get the rest of 
those clothes off and kneel before me."

	She stared up at him in disbelief as she began to 
disentangle herself from the robe.  It took her several 
minutes to accomplish the feat, her aching body, coupled 
with Desmond's demand that she keep her eyes on the 
movement of his hand, impeded her progress.  Trembling 
fingers finally cast aside her bra, its contents almost spilling 
out as she leaned back.  Her thumbs slipped under the 
waistband of her briefs, tugging them slowly off.

	She struggled to pull herself up and into a kneeling 
position in front of him, her whole body shaking as she 
wept.  A hand fell to the side of her face, fingers pressed 
against her chin and guiding her mouth closer to him.  She 
had to struggle to keep her eyes open, knowing that 
Desmond would be watching her every movement.

	Her eyes remained leveled as her lips were placed a 
few inches away from his sex.  Her whole body trembled in 
the moment of silence that followed, each blink of her eyes 
tempting her to shut out the sight entirely.  She could feel 
blood running down her back, oozing from a cut in her lip.  
Tears and blood pooled at her chin, falling in steady drops 
onto her folded legs.

	The silence was broken by the sound of Desmond's 
voice, steady and controlled.  He was confident as he 
spoke, secure in the fact that she would do anything to save 
herself from any further harm, "Suck me off. The moment I 
feel teeth, you lose them."

	Her stomach clenched again and her lips parted in 
protest, the sound ending up a soft gurgle as he pushed 
himself forward.  She opened her jaws wide to avoid 
grazing him with her teeth.  Her eyes pitched upward, 
pleading silently with him as he stroked the side of her 
face.

	"Maybe I hit you a bit too hard?" He asked,  "For your 
own good I hope I didn't, because if you don't start to suck 
in the next five seconds I'm just going to have my fun 
elsewhere."  His foot slipped forward, the tip of his shoe 
prodding eagerly between her legs.

	Panicking, she collapsed the insides of her cheeks, 
sucking hard in her desperation and prompting him to 
laugh.  

	"I forgot. You've never seen a mans cock, let alone 
sucked one."  He said as he watched the movement, "Well, 
we'll have you up to speed in no time."  His fingers slipped 
into her hair as he said the last, tugging her head back then 
pressing forward again as he spoke, soft moans escaping 
his lips.

	She stared up at him as he guided her movements, 
almost choking as he forced her to take his entire length.  
She began to pick up the movements on her own, trying 
desperately not to gag.  She winced every so often as her 
teeth made contact with his skin, prompting a series of 
hisses from Desmond, "You're going to pay for that later 
bitch. You remember that."  

	She was finding it hard to breathe as he continued to 
pump into her mouth, the movement of his hips 
occasionally crushing her nose into the thick patch of hair 
between his legs.  His hands left her momentarily as he 
pushed his pants down farther,  "You can do better than 
that Steph, use your tongue, you remember how it's done. I 
know you do."

	Her tongue flickered experimentally against him, the 
sigh of pleasure it prompted speeding her movements.  She 
began to feel dizzy as his hips pressed against her cheeks, 
her tongue dancing over him.  The room around her began 
to blur, his words echoing over and over in her mind, "You 
remember...I know you do."  Suddenly, she did, or 
something inside her did.

	The room grew cold as she raised a hand, fingers 
slipping between his legs, gently massaging him as the 
movements of her tongue grew increasingly elaborate.  She 
abandoned herself to the feeling, the carpet under her knees 
growing even colder in comparison to the rest of the room.  
There was a crackling sound somewhere in the distance, 
and the faint touch of heat against her back.  The carpet 
became stone beneath her.

	Desmond laughed, his voice barely discernable 
through his moaning, "I told you, I knew you hadn't 
forgotten...you'll always belong to me."  His hands found 
their way to her hair again, his hips jerking violently as her 
fingers slid up and down his legs.  There was another sound 
filling the room, a satisfied moan that seemed to be 
escaping Stephanie's lips as her hands slid backwards, 
stroking Desmond and pulling him ever closer.  

	She sucked eagerly at him now, the sounds of her 
pleasure drowning out his own as blood and tears stained 
her face in equal measure.  She tried to fight whatever it 
was that kept her lips pressed to him. A force that 
demanded she taste everything he had to offer.  The 
constant sniffling coupled with the parade of pleasured 
moans and half sighs emanating from the couple seemed to 
be carried beyond the confines of the small room, amplified 
and hammered back into Stephanie's ears.

	Her shame blossomed as she shifted slightly, the 
thicket of hair between her legs damp with need.  Her mind 
screamed for her to beg him for more. For him to take her, 
for her to tear her lips away and spread herself open for 
him. Mind, body, and soul.  Something told her it was right 
that he would be her first, that he would steal her 
innocence.  That same thing told her that it also wasn't her 
place to ask such a thing, that he would take her when he 
was ready.

	It was on this thought that a warmth filled her mouth 
as Desmond pinned her face against him.  She swallowed 
quickly to keep from gagging, writhing against him in 
pleasure as she drank without question.  She continued to 
suck well after he had spent himself completely, moaning 
in frustration as he pushed her roughly away.  She watched 
him with a hungry glare, her breathing ragged as she rolled 
onto her side.

	Her own world began to snap back into focus, the 
confidence, the almost alien consciousness which had 
guided the movements of her lips and hands slipped away.  
She began to curl into a tight ball with the realization of 
what had happened, growing dizzy with nausea and 
despair.  She stared blankly ahead as her lids began to 
flutter shut, her mind dwelling over the only thing The 
Other had left her.

  She knew now that somehow this was her place and 
that she would never again be leaving the side of the man 
she knew only as Desmond.  This thought did little to 
comfort her.  It mingled with the unanswered questions that 
gnawed away at her.  Her mind tried to make sense of the 
last hour as she grew increasingly tired.  She grasped 
desperately at the remaining threads of consciousness that 
kept her awake, finally letting out a defeated sigh as her 
body went limp and she drifted to sleep.

** End Chapter 1

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