top of page
  • Writer's pictureKiera Marquez

The Girl Named Malum Chapter 3: Happy Birthday…Mom

Updated: Nov 12, 2023

“Happy birthday…mom” his voice trailed with the burning smoke of the town. Victima let the smoke of the candle submerge into his face, he felt like nothing at this moment… His eyes looked like a warrior in war after experiencing death in front of him… he was beginning to come into a deep trance “What a moment to be in… what a moment to spare…” he groaned “when I think of you I’m dreaming… joy overflowing… forever and ever…” he swayed his head back and forth, he was too deep into this deep sea of his trance. Malum stood there, remaining firm on the rocky ground, what felt like piercing thorns coated with children's blood, Malum didn’t budge an inch. Her eyes strained from her sockets, to her; seeing her “toy” pay attention to a dead human… it agitated her more that she wanted to be seen by her own boyfriend’s eyes. “He’s supposed to be mine, his eyes are mine, his body his mine, his soul is mine, he is mine… she thought to herself “that boy… a pathetic woebegone…”. She stared at him, her cold eyes flashed a blood-coated red, it looked like she was a mimic angel coming down to execute god’s plan. She leaned down, her cold breath lingered around Victima's ear; “get up you pathetic-”, Victima stood up, his eyes still remained with the vision of the hundred yard stare, “Victima..look at me…look at my beautiful face…” Malum pleaded “look at me, make me feel seen please…”. Psithursim was heard through the trees around them, her eyes were still blood-shot red, she looked like she would murder someone right about now- I would never…kill a human…why would you say that…? I would never whelve…I never lied to anyone…never make that mistake again.


Malum rubbed Victima’s shoulders and lifted his chin to face her “look at me…”. His eyes watered with wells of water, she kissed his neck “let me ease the pain…”. She hummed a melody, a nostalgic… mother’s melody“Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water Jack fell down and broke his crown And Jill came tumbling after Jack got up, and home did trot As fast as he could caper To old Dame Dob, who patched his nob With vinegar and brown paper…” . She continued, yet a bit more creepier “Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water Jack fell down and broke his crown And Jill came tumbling after~...”. Her smile looks like that of a cat attacking its prey, her nails dug sharp into his veins “you know I love you right? I do this because I love you~”. She leaned on his shoulder and swayed with him in front of the memorial, Victima’s face was full of confusion “w-wait what do you m-” , she shushed him and continued to sway him around the bench. “Oh isn’t this love? The way I spend my time on this Earth with you~” she hummed “oh how sadly one day this will all come to an end~...”. She swayed him away from his mother’s memorial “lets be one together~”. She brought him over to the Oak tree that had most of its leaves turned into shades of yellow and orange. She held his hands and stared at him “I’d like to spend the rest of my hallows eve with you…and only if you…with your eyes on me only…will you promise me that?” her eyes looked like the dark sea, filled with the unknown and death lurking in shadows… “I’d like that..” Victima smiled and looked down. “No keep your eyes on me…” she tilted his head and her face was close to his “we are spending this night having each other's eyes on one another~”. She chuckled insanely, but Victima didn’t mind, afterall he was taught to not judge a book by its cover


“Let's go!” she dragged him to the shopping center “we’ll find our fun here~”. She led him into the store and shoved him down an aisle “costumes, costumes costumes, halloween is soon my love!”. She took a row of angel costumes , pathetic humans…they dare to show the skins of God’s angels? She thought how sad…they got to skin God’s angels before me… Victima looked over her shoulder “babe? Must you put those away, those costumes are always a lazy excuse as a costume” he chuckled “come on, I have an idea”. He grabbed onto the costumes but Malum yanked them tight “do not…disturb me…I’m disappointed in humanity right about now…”. Victima pulled away “sorry..” it’s my fault, I made her upset…I ruined everything… “You don’t ruin everything dear…it’s just humanity…” she said coldly and started to hum a tune“I don't want to set the world on fire…I just want to start…. A flame in your heart…”. She crumbled the costumes “I've lost all ambition For worldly acclaim…I just want to be the one you love…And with your admission…That you feel the same…I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of…Believe me” she started to tear the costumes apart, this “costume” for some reason made her insane, it was like she was h-hinting at something she didn’t like…You see…Way down inside of me…Darlin', I have only one desire…And that one desire is you…And I know…Nobody else ain't gonna do” her tune was out of tune, skipping lines…why so? Each costume was torn down, it looked like a flock of feathers from dead geass… Malum's breath became heavy as she stared at the ground like a pile of blood in an unexpected place. Victima hugged her “c-calm down please…we don’t have to shop here!” he tried luring her away, but she yanked him and dug her nails into his arms “tell me..” she spoke softly “tell me they didn’t skin angels before me…tell me…” Victima looked at her terrified “what do you mean, who skinned these" angels " ?". He rubbed her back “tell me, is this from trauma..? Please tell me you're okay…”. She looked up, her eyes had sockets full of despair and angst, it was like anger about to break loose “they skinned them didn’t they!? That was my job…!”. She sank to the floor and shook uncontrollably “they’re coming to take me away ha..ha..they’re coming to take me away..ha ha..”. She rocked back and forth “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do…I'm half crazy all for the love of you…”. Her breath became stiff and her skin turned cold and pale. Victima rushes to her “we need to go…”. He picked her up and ran out the store and to the nearest infirmary, of course no one wouldn’t come after them for the torn angel costumes…


He ran into the infirmary “please help us! My partner is going pale! She’s losing consciousness!”. The nurses and doctors rushed to him and ran with her to the ER. “Stay here Mr…?” a doctor asked , Victima looked at them “my name is Victima..”. The doctor looked surprised “Aaron and Shanon’s kid?” Victima looked down “they’re my foster parents…”. The doctor looked afraid “oh god…I’m so sorry you have to deal with them for all those years…” they knelt down and rubbed Victim's back “your mother and father were..?” Victima teared up “oh right…touchy topic..” They got up and grabbed candy from a nearby jar “here kiddo”. Victime peeled back the wrapper and nibbled on the piece “I’m so sorry about everything…I wish I could’ve taken you in…” Victima looked up “I know…Dr.Ophelia…”. Dr.Ophelia hugged Victima close “that girl she…your girlfriend, right?” Victima looked up and nodded “good for you, you got a pretty one” they smiled. A group of doctors and nurses rushed to Dr.Ophelia and by the look of the conversation they had with them, Victima looked at it like Malum was about to die. “No! She can’t die!” Victima screamed and rushed to the ER. The doctors and nurses held him back while the other ran with Dr.Ophelia to the ER, “you must stay here! It’s not safe!” a nurse spoke to him reassuringly “trust me…everything will be fine..”


Dr.Ophelia ran down the hallway and into the operating room. Malum’s body was cut open and her skin was pulled to open her chest. Dr.Ophelia looked over the body..and in shock he fell back. “She has no heart…no lungs..no intestines …nothing…just bones and flesh…” they said in fear “how is this possible?”. They looked over at the patient’s monitor, the signs were unstable…all over the place…was this thing…even human…? “What is she..? What is this..?” Dr.Ophelia moved around her flesh in her open wound “her muscles…are human…yet her main parts are missing…how is this thing still alive?”. They looked at each other, the nurses and doctors loomed over the body “she must be alien…it must be an…it isn’t human..!”. Dr.Ophelia turned around “we have to call the FBI..they need to take care of this..” the nurses looked in fear “ we can’t risk the lives of our patients with this one thing…we must get rid of it ourselves!”. “We have no choice…we never had one in this world..this must be disposed of by professionals…”. Dr.Ophelia reached for Malum’s body, as they did so Malum shot straight up, her chest still open and her skin pulled on hooks. She stared at the doctors, horrified.




"̷̠̱͙͈̬̱͈̭̬̓̈́͗̕̚̕y̴̮̰̺̩͙͙͑͋̌͑̍̈́͘̚ó̷͔̩͉̼̥u̷̧̨̝̜̜̝̥͚͌͋̋̾̔̐̒̍̒̑̊̄͜ ̴̼͇̻̱͇̟̞̔͌́̓̽̊̌̏͋͠͝͠d̸̘̙̜̩̮̺̗̩̳̞̖͋̔̉̇͗͒͐̓̋̈́̕̚͝͝ā̵̡̛̯͕̖͕̣̰̠͕̯̫͎͉̤̟͈͈̂̒̏͊́͗͐͂̀̂̕̕r̵̠͎̹̫̮͉̤͇͚͇͈͈̻̅̀͗͋̉̔̋̕͜ê̷̡̨͕̻͔̣͉̱̱̑̄́͌̂̀͗̐͐͐̍͛͑͆͋͠.̵̡͓̯̬̗͈̻̳̤͍͔̺̏̈͜.̶̖̞̼͔̱̬͙̿́.̸̢̮̜͍̦̬̜̗̹͈̀͌̍ḑ̶̧̛̛̯̒̐̅̃̿̍̊̓͑́̊͘í̷̺͈͓̘̄̏͑͘̚ş̷̯̯̤͙̭͇͓̓͒͂̆̋̑̓̀͊̇́͊̏̕͝ṫ̶̲̝̲̞̖̙̻̗̲̤͍͚͛̾̍̒̌̐̇̌͆̍ͅu̶̖̟̖̗͛̌͑̒ŕ̴̡̦̞͙̮̭̙̓̿͑̅͂̒̒̑̊́́͋͒̏͝ͅb̸̨̡̛͓̒̏̌̃͊̔̏͛͒͗̂͆̔͝ ̷̨̧̟̱̦̠̝͖͔̱̜̣̤̐̽͋̔̄̊͌͜͠m̴̧̨̼͙̦͈͕̲̲̗̤̳͔̭̯̘̣͂̀̌̄̎̋̉̓͗͑̐̋ȩ̷̧̙̺̮̦͇̹͍̖̮̝͔̃̐̍̿̂̚͠.̸̨̡̢̥̗̞͓͍̺̹̬͇͍͚̭́͛̈́͌̊͑̅̏̋͝ͅ.̷̤̻͙̌͗̑̑͂̒̆̑͛́̌̑͑̆͑̄y̴̩̳̣͊̅͑̄͐͐̊̀ͅo̶̧͕͔̱̰̯͓͗͐͂͛͂͌ů̸̢̨̧̮̰̤̝͇̯̺͉͔̥̳͇̤́͒̏͆̌̈́̓̏̐̿̚͘͝ ̶̧̛̗͕͔̙͍̘̘̱̟̩̣̉̿̏͊̀̐̈́͐̈́̃̎̇͘̕d̵̡̢͍̠̰̘̠͇̱̹̙̞͍̋̑̾̔̎̆͋́͛̓͝͝ä̴̧̖͔̩̺̪̬̰̼̞͖̘̳͕̹̭́͐̐̈́̀̐̓̾̒̄̎͋̄̕͘r̵̰̞͙͛ę̷̢̜̤̘̦̝̯̣͖̞͍̺̦͖̉̌̕͝ ̸̛̬͎̜̻̝̳̯̻͆̔͊̈́͒̃̃̂͆͒̈́̂̎̍̍t̶̨̡̡̲̲̞͇̰̣̫͖̖̰̫̠̦͓͗͂̀͘a̸̧̻̪͂͆̓͑͌̉͂̽̈́̂̊̿́͠ķ̶̡͕͇̮̝̹̮̮̥͖͖̻̫̙̗̿͊̒ͅe̵̢̨͖̻͙̼͇͙͓̻͐̏̅̊̓̕̕͝ ̵̛̻͓͎̩̘̦̠͒̓̉́͆̈͋̎͒͑͛̂̔͘͝͝m̵̨̲͍̲̺̣̰̱͚̏͊̈́̈́̽̿̆̂͛̊̾̚̕͝ȅ̸̞̳̤̑̎ ̷̨̝̤̙͔͂͑̑̈́̈́͝a̶̘̠̲̥̮̲͌͒̀̿̈́͗́̒̆̇̚ẅ̵̢̢̭̠̹̫̯̩̟̦̥̞́̿͐͐́̈̕͘ͅa̵̻̫͇̯̰̳͂̈́̎̋̽̈́̂̃̾͆̑̀̀y̶̤̘͌̉̑̓͌̀̂͆ ̸̢̦̝̫̤̼̫̗̺̻̟͇̻̣̠̈̉͒̑͌́͆̀̈̉̐̚̚f̶̢̨͖̞̪̞͈̠͕͙̗̳́̇͂̋͗̓̈́̌̌͝͝r̵̨͕̹̩̮̫̦̝͙͓̍̀̊͗̿͜o̵̥͙̊̀̔̓͒m̷̻̭̘̒̓͗̐͑̇̋̀̇̍̔̒̎̾ ̴̧̭̟͇̞̯͉͚̗̪̈̉̏̓͌͛̋̏̏̆m̴̢̛̼͕̻̘̙̼̓͒́͗̒̍̎̇̈́̌͌́̑͋y̶͖̝͖̹͆̚ ̶̩̐́̓́̀̂͆͗̄͛̋̎̋̌͠t̴͚͍̘̲̩̭̫̺̳̳̺̪̝͌͂̇͋͌̔̍̕o̵̤̫̻͂̄̀̌̒̚͜͠͠y̴̺͈̗̳͇̣̳͚̠̤̻͙͊͂̑͌̌̕͜.̵̡͎̣̖̹̱͉͎̖̮̫̳̼̞̲̿͛́̂̈́̓̈́͐̑̒̃̂͒̇͆͘͝.̴̡̢̨̝͚͕̱̘̣͚̠͔̲͕͓̼̏̓̈́̾̔̈̈́͘̕ͅh̵͈̿̽̍͛̏̊̈́̐́͠͠o̸̢͇̮̠̙͇͓͖̻̣̮̬̣͖̺̾͗̄͝ẘ̵̙̰̗̥̻̗͗̑ ̸̛̩͇̯͑̎̑̒̇͂̽͗͝d̴̹̭̥̭̍͌̀͐́̀͐͠à̶͔͈͊ŕ̵̛̛̉̇͒͊͒͑͂̀̑̽̿͋͜͝ȇ̶̢̧̛̬̘̪̱̲̖̯͔̜͚̗̅̄̄̒͊̐͑͂̈́͒̂͐̌̚͜͝ ̵̡̤̙̙̜͕̖̻̜̤̺̩͙͍͍̟̙͒̉̄̄̐̒y̴̧̛̘̠̬̪͖̯̲̘̎́͊̈́͋̔́̂̒̒̊͝ͅͅȏ̵̡̰̝̭͕̘͚͇͔̼̓͝ǘ̷̱̯̗̖̮͇̤̥̹̯͉͚.̵̡̛̞̺̪̰͓̦͇̱̗̊̆̉̒̚͝ͅ.̸̧̧̖͉͖̬̘͔̦͖̝̀͛͜.̵̧̧̧̡͍̰̻̳̰̀̽́̑̓Ẏ̵̢̝̹̟͎͓̈́̈̂͊͌̽̌̎̌̈͝Ȯ̷̢̧̺͎̳̟̞̞͉̼̙̝͓̦̹͓̊̍͒̽͊̐͌͒̕̕͜U̶̧̬̥̠̲͔̩̤̹̫̭̟̖̞̪̻͑̏̈ ̷̩͚̐̔̈́̇̍̍F̷͉͇̫͕̻̥̺̺͚͑̈́̽͛͛̄̋̓̂̕ͅȈ̸͍̠̟̳͇͉̟̬̠̖̪̯̩̦̙̦̉̀̈́̚͘͠͝͝͝ͅL̶͉̞͚͑̏̀͐ͅT̵̛͚̪̩͈̥̫̪̦̤̎̽̋̊͊̈͊̋̚͠H̴̡̹̞̞̭͔̊͌͒̃̔͌̉̇̊̅̎̅͗͗̒̕Y̷͎̣̤͇͛̏͋̉͛̆̀͋́̓͠ ̵̗̩̟̝͇͖̲̳̟̘̓̒̆̚͝H̷̨̪͑̌͊̊̿̾̈́̄̈́̇̆Ų̸̬̦̳̺̣̥̔̾͐͂̌͋̋̄͋̔̔̈̐͝͠M̶̞̘̙͚̂̄̀̈́̉̃̒͆̓͝͝͠Ạ̶̛̳̻̄̅͆͑́͒̓̈͗̋̈N̴̡̛̞̩̲̩͕̹͈͚̤͔͑̌̌̇̐̿S̴̰̫̺͖͌͂̅͑̅͝͝ͅ!̷̛̛̮͇̤̅̎̎́͑̏͗̿̀̈́͐̂͐"̸̙̝̜̲̯̅͐͑̏̈́̌̆̋̅̀̈́\



She spoke in tongue and demonic like, her body ascended and blood poured from the walls. The doctors in fear collapsed and ran to the exit..yet it became locked. “HELP US! LET US OUT!” they screamed “SAVE US!”. Yet no one came… Malum came closer, her chest still torn open and her eyes becoming blood-shot red…



"̷̨̹̙̤̈́̿̃̎F̸̪̄̅̌̈́̆̂͝į̸̘͍̱̭̥̺̩̓̓͂͗̄͘͝r̴̛̻͔̬̖͙̺͙̭̦̖̉͝s̷͈̩̫̫͇͉̱͕̲̐̈̑̕t̵̨̙̥̣̜͍͕́̕͜ͅ ̷̝͓͖͋̌͒̇̑̃̋͘y̴̢̺͔͖͔̪̦͚̭̝̍̆͘ō̶̦̺̙̙̙̪̖̪ͅͅú̷̘̖̣̥͉͖͖̹̓̿̆̉͐̐̓̐͠ ̸̟̳̗̭̹͓̀̍͆͊ͅs̶̩̘̮͕̯͔̃͌̓͛͂k̶̨̨̤͎̼̺͙͖̺̃̆̊̑͝͝į̵̭̙̭̩̥̮̖̈́̎̓͠n̷̢͕̜̺̺͎̦͐̍͋͒ ̸̗͚͔͖̈ͅĢ̷̝̦̲̞͙̻͇͒͆́͌̐̈́̽͌́͠ͅő̶̺̮̒̈͌͋̏̿ḋ̵̺̯̭̣̺̠̺͊̃͠͠'̶̭̓̕͝s̸̨̳̟͓͙͖̺͕͍̅̀̓͜ ̷͖͕̯͔̱̞̣̋̂̏̄̃ä̶͎̙́̋͊͊̾̔́͗͘͝ņ̵͖͉̟̺̠͙̯̥̝̋̆͌̓̈́ḡ̵̛̪̖̣̼̹͙̹̙̈̚͠ͅe̷̮̹̻̜͂͛̌͒l̴̡̧͙̣͖̼͓̬̘̲͐̑̊͆͊͋s̸̢̰͙͍̟̞̀̈͋͘̕̕̚͝ͅ ̸̡̯͚̤̝̪̣̑̒̇̌̑͜b̴̡̳͚̭̔̈́́̋̏̈͌̚e̷̢͈͚̘̊f̴̛͈̻̾̀̚o̵̯̼̩̭͛̓̔̇r̴̡͓̣͈̗͔̍̎͛̑̿̈́̍̽̽̕e̴̟̹̐͝ ̵̨̥̥̬̥̓m̵̢̛̖̳̭̝̩͇̩̈́͆ͅe̴̠̦̞̙͍̘͖͉͌.̴̗͔̦̼̰̪̘͈̼̠̒̎͌̕.̵̛̹̖̗̥̻̰̯̼̬͒͛̈́̑̎.̵̞̼̘̬̣̯̻͓̋̍̊ͅạ̴̏̈́͑̅n̸̨̙̫̯̦̠͕̙̣̋͜d̷̝̎ ̷͚̫̫͚͍̞͗̑̅͂̒͑̏͗͒ͅń̵͇̱̪̼͇̼̟̼̔̐͜ͅȍ̶̧̪̦͔̥̰̩̅̄͗̂w̴̪͗̏̓̑̍͘ ̵̠̹̟͚͕̞̯̻͆͂ỷ̷̧̡̦͈̤̜̘̰̖̪́̐̿̊́̂̔̚ö̸̫̙̰̜͇̙́͊͒̉̔̈́̂̋̕ư̸͈̬͎͕̪͚̬̗̓͌̈̃̑͆ ̸͎̼̫̞͑̈́͑͑̉̾̀͐͑d̷͖̝͕̞̟̘͇͠a̷̢̜̝̳̪̜̯͋̾r̷̪̙̈̄̋̎̇̇̇͘ȅ̶̘͚̓̑̃́͐̄̅͝ ̶̨̮̼͖͔͇͌̒͝t̴̡̬͙̭̮̽ͅͅa̵̹͖̼̺͙͓̼̣̽̊̃̒̃̀̽̄͆k̵̫̠̗̣̻̹̬̄͊̆̈͂͐̅̊͒̕͜ë̸̤̣͈̓̋̃̚ ̴̨̧̩̹̱͉́ͅͅm̶̨̠̬̦̯̥̮̝̓̅͜e̵̫̬̿͛̅́͆̅̀͂̕ ̴̜̖̬͔̲͒̓̾̀̿̈́͝ằ̶̮͓̔͋̐͐̈́w̶̪̜̠̪̗̺͐̎́̈́́͌̋͘͝͝ȁ̴̛̛̹̜̝͕̎͌͒͆̚y̶̮͋̐̑̈́͗͛͝.̷̼̫͇̻̹̤̰̰̈́͂͐̑̈́̋̇̊̚ͅ.̸͔͚͖͎̽̀͗?̶̗͈̲͙͊̇̇̈̃̆͑̄͆ ̸͖̱͚͔̟̹͗͒́̉͑̌̓̑́͝Y̶̩͌̀̚͘o̸̹̅͂̆ǘ̵̦̙̠͎̋̋̚ ̸̞̺̤͇̲͆a̵̦̻̹̱̖̓͆̈́̃̾̋̂̄͂ŗ̸̢̥̜̤̺̬̀̓͗͒̀̚͜e̶̜͕͊̎͌̔͘ ̵̱̻̀̒̍á̶̼̆̽́͒͊͆͝l̷̡̞̞̰̺̍͌̆̆̂̂͝͝ͅl̸̠̣̥͗̅̑̔̄͌͐̂̊.̵̙̬͔̻̘͓̠̖̫̫͝.̵̝̙̩̦̠̣̘̀͋̾̔͊̉̓̃͘͜g̷̪͓͍͖͖̙͇̗̉̍̀͌͒̕͝͠͝o̷͖̝̝̜͇͛͝͝d̵̹̓̍͂̂̊̈̚ṡ̸̬͙̼̯̗̏͐̽̕͝͠ ̶̨̛͖̯̹͉̟̎͛̏͆͑͑̚͘f̸̡̮̟͉͚͒̅͛͌̇͗̾͗̄͛a̴͖̝͒͗͛̔̅̒͘̚į̶̱̺͓̺̞̣̭̔͌̎͠l̴̡͊̔͝e̸̛͇͍̦͇̘̼͉̮̲̅͑́͂̔́͒̕͘d̴̡̬͇̈́̉͗̕͝ ̴̜͒͗́͋̓̈́̉́́͌e̴͙̱̎̿́͘ͅx̷̧̧̞̺̬͛̽̓͆̓̽̅͠p̴̮̥̔͒́̒͊̔̀͛̿i̵̝̪͚̣̙̬̫̐̒̀͝ȓ̵̹̦͉̠̭̠̲̠̠́̚ͅḛ̷̠͚̻̬̦̄̈́̀͂̈́̃͠m̷̠̘͎̗̦̜̫̣̰̔͋̓̕͘͝͝͝ẹ̵̛͎̭̦̲̟͚̮̀̇͜ǹ̷̮̹͍̻̇̓̓̌̕͝͠t̸̢̛̹̭̲͖͛ͅs̵͚̤̼̼͙̲͕̀̽̒͜.̷̧͙̟̣̉̍̉̂͐͘.̸̧̭̳̺̿.̵̜̔̅̋̓̈́̑͘͠"̷̨̪͑



The doctors cried and pleaded, as she raised her arm as the room filled with blood. “SOMEONE SAVE US!” they screamed. Banging on the door, yet each skin spared to try to break open the glass was just useless… The room shook and the blood began to suffocate the doctors… Each of their heads…on the verge of explosion…till…darkness. Individually, each staff experiences the void alone. Terrified they were in hell, most started praying, some started to impact harm on oneself. They soon started horrifying aspirations of past memories…assault, abandonment, death, rejection, backstabbing, murder… it appeared to them… Dr.Ophelia on the other hand was different… A scene of Victima’s parents…was shown. Dr.Ophelia watched in terror as they observed the beheading of his parents… his mother…pregnant with Victima's sibling…die before Dr.Ophelia eyes… Victima's father’s guts and bones inverting into one another till his body was no longer fixable. Then it happened, both lost a head…and to their shock…young Victima watched as her parents' heads rolled around…


Dr.Ophelia cried in fear “it wasn’t me I didn’t kill his parents..! I only wanted to protect him!” they screamed “stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!”. They wrapped their arms around their head and began to shiver “it wasn't me..it…wasnt me..I saw what happened…it killed them…it killed him…IT KILLED THEM!”. Malum appeared above Dr.Ophelia ,”YOU! IT WAS YOU!” they screamed “YOU DID THIS TO HIM! YOU TORTURED HIM!”. Malum smiled “and he will never know…” she smiled and raised her arm…her fingers clenched together as Dr.Ophelia’s head smashed into bits…blood escaping the capsule....


Alarms started to ring throughout the infirmary, Victima jolted up and looked around “oh god…!”. He ran outside trying to calm his mind, he sank to the floor and cried..but then he saw Malum…in a patient gown…lying on the floor. He ran to her and picked her up “wake up! WAKE UP!”. He shook her violently “WAKEUP! WAKEUP!” he screamed at the top of his lungs ``I DON'T WANT TO LOSE ANYONE ELSE!”. He cried into her chest “come back…please..don't leave me alone..i'm sorry for everything…!”. Malum opened her eyes slowly “my t-toy?”. Victima jolted and held her “oh my love! Don’t do that again!”. He picked her up and walked away from the infirmary. “How did you get out here?” he asked her, though she didn't want to tell him the truth “i was sleepwalking” she responded. “How weird…because I was right outside…” he said suspiciously, Malum looked worried he might have known “eh…I don’t really care..”. They walked down the street and saw trick or treaters. “Oh i forgot today was halloween my love, shall we join in a bit late?” he chuckled “of course…anything for you my toy~” she replied back. They found a pair of plastic bags on the side of the road and joined in on the fun.


They went from door to door, terrorizing old ladies and kids, candy from it. “Stupid kids! They don’t learn how to mess with angels!” Malum jokes “hey what's the commotion over there?”. They both walked to the crowd and found out they were visiting the Cathedral Assumption. Malum held onto Victima, which was unusual, she has never acted like this before… This was so unusual, her expressions were unhinged…too unhinged…some were wrong. They walked further and walked over to the podium, where a priest told a story about the destroying angel “…In 2 Samuel 24:15-16, the destroying angel kills the inhabitants of Jerusalem. In 1 Chronicles 21:15, the same "Angel of the Lord" is seen by David to stand "between the earth and the heaven, with a drawn sword in his hand stretched out against the Hebrews' enemies…" the priest spoke with pride. This made Malum upset, she dropped to the floor and shook with fear. She wasn't acting normal. Her breath came chucky and her skin turned pale, her hands became boney and cold. Victima ran over to her and shook her violently “M-malum?” he spoke afraid “w-wake up please…”. He began to cry, the priest stopped his preaching and ran over to the two. Their eyes filled with tears and terror “this woman is a demon!” They pulled Victima away and tried to chant over Malum’s sudden panic attack, like she was possessed or mentally insane


Her bones started to shift and break, her back twisted into funny shapes and her eyes drooled with blood and missing pupils. Her mouth started to pour a river of blood and her arms began to twist into swirls. Her jaw soon dislocating and going unconscious, the priest grabbed Malum and tied her to a chair while they called for others to escort the trickers outside. Victima felt shocked , yet frozen in fear. He stood there staring at Malum…getting blessed by the church’s priest, which cost her to spiral out of control…what was going to happen…what is going on

Malum’s body was limp, her body was cold and skinny. Her eyes were rolled back and oozing blood and so was her mouth. A smile appeared on her face, a twisted one, her smile going all the way to her temples once again… She began to laugh..slowly…losing her mind… Her body twisted and ached, her mouth expanded and her eyes turned into black voids as the blood continued to pour…this is a freak show…





System Error…











S̶̢̧͕̳̜̹̹͓̮̗̿̏y̴̛͖̭̯̝̮̭̭̟͕͖͕̘͔͖̓̈̇̈́̏̒͒̓̐͌̕̕̚s̸̨̢͚͖͕̬̿͌́́̆̂̈́́̕͜͝t̶̨̬͖͕̀̊̆̇ȩ̶̧͔̘͙̣̘̼̗̣̟̜͉͕͖̊͊̾͗̈́̓̽͋̋́͒̽̕͜͝͝͝m̶̛̫͙̗̭͙̋̊̃͗̃̔͒̒̄͛̐́ Error…









System ̵̧̨̹̝̯͎̩̗̹̱̊̍̽̄́̿ͅĘ̷̩͙͎̰͈͎͗͋͐̏̇̎̑̅̇̽̏̽͆̚̕̕͘ͅr̴̦͈̠̪̰̔r̵͖͎̬̟̘̘̠̘̩̯̀̇̿̓̆̈́͌̓͗̆̑̃̔́̕͝ȏ̵̧̱͎͙̲͈̭̻̺͔̘̒̀̓͌̃̐̕ŗ̶͇̖̰̟̰̎̉̎̒̾́͑̊̎̎……













S̶̢̧͕̳̜̹̹͓̮̗̿̏y̴̛͖̭̯̝̮̭̭̟͕͖͕̘͔͖̓̈̇̈́̏̒͒̓̐͌̕̕̚s̸̨̢͚͖͕̬̿͌́́̆̂̈́́̕͜͝t̶̨̬͖͕̀̊̆̇ȩ̶̧͔̘͙̣̘̼̗̣̟̜͉͕͖̊͊̾͗̈́̓̽͋̋́͒̽̕͜͝͝͝m̶̛̫͙̗̭͙̋̊̃͗̃̔͒̒̄͛̐́ ̵̧̨̹̝̯͎̩̗̹̱̊̍̽̄́̿ͅĘ̷̩͙͎̰͈͎͗͋͐̏̇̎̑̅̇̽̏̽͆̚̕̕͘ͅr̴̦͈̠̪̰̔r̵͖͎̬̟̘̘̠̘̩̯̀̇̿̓̆̈́͌̓͗̆̑̃̔́̕͝ȏ̵̧̱͎͙̲͈̭̻̺͔̘̒̀̓͌̃̐̕ŗ̶͇̖̰̟̰̎̉̎̒̾́͑̊̎̎…









Y̶͙̜͙͗ŏ̸̥͙ű̷̹ ̶̡͍̜̲̈́̎͝͝a̸̺̥͈̐́ŕ̶̼͍̎͝ȅ̵̬͇̙̠͋̃̾ ̸̞̓͝ö̷͓n̴̼͎̯͊ͅl̵̹̠̀y̷̡̠̭̆͐̀͗ ̵̳̝͑m̴̢̞̞̠̾̑à̴̢̌k̶̡͚̭̆̇i̶̧͎͈̍̏̚͝n̴̡̼̬̍̈g̷̗̦̜̈́́̔̕ ̸̡͍̼̔͆t̵͉͋̂͌͝ḫ̵̯͚̺͌i̷̪̥̓̕s̶̟̟̈́͜ ̴̯̗̝̃ͅw̵̡͐͌̌͘ő̶͇͚̙͒̾r̵̢̈́͒s̸͕̥̝̲̐͗̑̐e̶̖͗ ̴̞̔̇̅f̸̯̺̈́̉o̶̪͊r̷̮̪͎̖̅ ̸̢̼̓̀̕͜y̵̻̑͆̃͝o̵̗̬̓͘͝u̶̪̮̤̜̓̈́r̶̨̧͇̯̓s̷̙͎̳̏̃̊̒e̸͔͠l̷̗̯̙̿͠f̴̪͌͗̑.̴̺̜̠̓͗̐͛.̷̻̎̅͊.̴̼̬̱̈́̐̕ ̴̲̝̋̍͑͜Ý̷̲o̶̢̮͙̯͂̕͘ṵ̷̡̗̚ ̵̫̓͆̚a̷̻̯̭̓r̶̟͔̝͎̕é̸͉̉̇ ̶̰̪́ò̸̞̲͉n̶̫͉̰̪̑̋͝l̶̢͖̣̟̈́͂y̴̰͆̊̌ ̷̧̲͚͛̊̊m̵̺̫̰̓̾̈́͘a̸̘͛́k̸̹̖̩͖͋̇i̸̙͠n̵͌͊ͅg̵̛͍̎͌ ̶͔͑͜͜ẗ̸̻̭́͂̅h̵̦͙̯̭͊i̷̛̻͎͎͑̌̀s̶̡̝͝ ̶͕̰͍̔w̶͙̞͒̓͋̔o̵̡̖̬͚͒̀r̷̨̥̉̂̚s̶͉̗̬̅̃͌͜e̷̻̬͋̔̐ ̸̲͎̻̞̏f̴̰̘͕̉ö̸̘̦̝́̕r̴̟̩̣̠̂͝͝ ̶̫̤̅̚͜͝y̴̜͔̝͆͆ǫ̸̳͂̾̽ṷ̸̧͚͌̈́̕̚r̶̨͚͖̱̿̾̀́s̶͇̓e̶̜̺̣͓̐l̷̦̥̱͔̐f̷̩́.̶̜͌̓͑̕.̵͔̽.̵̡͈́̽̾͝ ̴͓͙͛̃̈́͝Y̶͈̯͛̓̏̕o̷̲̳͚̓͘u̶̬̲͊͜ ̷̦̒͑͊͒a̸̖̓r̴͓̔͋̚e̷͈̟̤͖̔͗̈́ ̷̡͔͒͋͛̌ö̸̯́͘ṋ̸̦͚͒̾̏l̷̠̼̐ỵ̴̖̘̲͂ ̷̛͔̘̦͈m̸̡̰̥̓͜a̴̞̗̫͂̿͛̃k̷̨̆͊̋ǐ̷̓̋͘͜n̴̟̂̕ġ̸̖̟̇ ̶͓̅͋ṱ̶̺̗̠̈́̑h̴͎̰͂̇ì̷̡̺̫s̷̬͚̆͌̔͜ͅ ̸̜͔͔̩͘͘w̴̱̥̤̉͆̽o̸̟̗̗̒͛̃͘r̶̠̰̂́̊͜s̴̟̺̒e̷͙͎͇̯̒̀̐͝ ̴̭̳̯͍̊̈f̷̛̼̻̩̹͒͐̈́ỏ̶̤̳͈r̷̡͉͎̹͐̽͘ ̴̞͙̤̋́̔͜y̸̙̳̱͉̍̅͒ȏ̸̧͓͖͍̇u̸̮̘̰̾̆̈́r̵̻̗͠s̸̲̼̍͊e̴̖̮͐̒̀̾ľ̵̗͝f̷͔̝̅.̸̙͐̉̉́.̶̻̪̅͛̈́͠.̸̨̯̟̽ ̷̗̎̃͜Y̴͉̗̔͗̈̽o̴̜̜̤͗͋̈́ͅu̴͕̔͛̌ ̴̱̭̏a̵̘͚̻͍͊̇͌ŗ̶̛̞̣̯̓̾͗e̸̲̱͊́̏͠ ̸̫̤͙̜̈o̴̠̣̓͆̀ͅͅǹ̶̲̖̲l̴̨̹̱̱̑̌̒y̶̫͛̈́̚ ̴̡̞̄́̑͝m̷̧̻̖̿̊á̷̭̖̈́̽̏k̸̯̪̝͙͒̊͗i̸̔͐ͅņ̸̲̖͈̌̑͌̍g̵͖̀ ̵̼̘̐ͅt̸̟́͆̍͘h̴̤̣͑̈̎i̴̒̆̕͜͠s̶̡̯͍̺̏͆́ ̴̜̤͉̫̈́̀w̷͓̬͖͋̆̆ó̷̡̹̭̻̐̅̍r̶̫̓̆̅s̵̝͔͓̩̀̿̆e̴̫̫̒̐ ̶̳̞̕f̷̞͖̖̍̅̂o̶͖̪̅r̴̗̫͍̱̃͝ ̶̯͌̄́̂y̶͕̫͚̾̆̿͠ó̷̳̮͍͍̇̇̚ȕ̸͓̝̹̐̒̂r̸̼̰̫̉̆s̶̨͙̰̞̀̀̔͠e̷͓̤̐͌ļ̷̼͉͋̊͋͘f̵̦̦͊͌.̴̯̜̚.̵̰̫̳͆̚.̴̨̨͙̣̇ ̶͙͓̈́͂̌͝Ỵ̶̰͐͜ͅö̵͎͙̏͒̈u̸͎̔́̀ ̸̞̩͎͌͒a̴̡̙͎̭͠r̶͎̓ͅẹ̶̟͈̝̉ ̸̩̫̤̽͑ͅo̸̺̘̐͑̐͝n̷̞̊l̷͙̄͊̈́͛ỵ̵͍̈́̾͊̒ ̶̱̽m̶̛̠̾̎̿a̵͎͒k̴̲̟̺̮͆̔̍̌i̶̅̓͜͠n̷̝̟̙̈́̆̉g̷̦̹͇̎͛̑ ̷̻̬̯̬͌́̂t̶̞̝͖͈̀́͆͘h̷͎̱͉̬͑̽̈́i̷͉͔̩̚s̸̙͍̜̽͛ ̷̘͓̽͛̾̾w̷̦̼̜̋͜ô̷͎̱͇̫̈r̴̨̰̭͒͗͜s̸̨͎̓͐̌e̶͔̦̓̑͘ ̴̯̻̝̑̉͘͘f̷̧̡̀͂̓o̸̰̮̱͎͌͊͝ŗ̶̛͇̈͛́ ̸͉̈ỳ̷̜̖͋ơ̵̬͓̹͆̎͒ȕ̶̡̬̜̉͊͘ŗ̵̳̓̈͝s̴̰̖͇͇̉̇̌̔ę̸̧͈͗l̵̗͋͒f̴̦̃͌͐͝.̷̼̭͌.̷̧́͂͌.̷̮͈̟̝̎̎̾̚ ̸͖̻͕̈Y̵̟͆̚o̶̭̚ū̷͙̝͐͝ ̷̪̳͓̈́͝a̴̗͗́ř̴̘͋̌e̴͙͒̋̾ ̶͕̻̍͐o̶̙̎̑̊n̷͇̍̇̒l̵̨̦̗̠̿̊y̵̥͉̞͌̅͂̿ͅ ̶̨̡̜̗͛m̸͖͐͋̾a̷͔̟͊̀ķ̸̣̞̲͑͋i̸͖͎̝̝͛n̶̤̹̒͆g̶̭̏́ ̷̯̯́͊̇̚ẗ̵̡̼̭́̊ḩ̶̗̰̬͂ĩ̷̺̈̀ͅs̷̖͕͕̼͊̑ ̶̮̯͍̥̑̂͝͝ẉ̷̧́o̷̡̾̈́͝r̶̨̜̖̲̓͐̃s̵̗͊̈̀ě̴̝̟̤̌̽̌ͅ ̸̨͎̹̤̃̔͋̓f̴̼̱̎͜͝͝ő̴͜͠r̶̛̳͊͝ ̷̭̝̒̍̎y̷̪̩̅̋o̵̘̼̅̐u̴̙̙̭̓ŗ̷͈̜̹̕ș̷͒́ẻ̵̙̟̓ĺ̸̢͖͇̤͌̈́͘f̸̡̾̕.̶͈̫̔̍.̵̡̭̰̜̋͝.̷̰̿̚ ̸̲͖͚̭̂̚Y̶̼̩̟̦͛o̵̱̜̪͗ụ̶͈̿̒ ̴̮̰͇̝͝a̶̛̦̔͊ȑ̴̘͉̖̺e̵͔̯͚̒̇ ̸̰̅̈́̊̊ó̷̰ņ̴̹̼̦̑l̵͈̮̻̏ỳ̶̯ ̵̞̄̒m̸̡̟͐ą̷̰̰̦̽͘̕͠k̸͙͑͗̒͘͜i̵̲̰̙̒͌̍̒ň̸̲͉̰͑́̈g̵̨̓̂ ̶̩̈̅͗t̵̜͍̲̝̃͝h̷̖̅̈́į̶͍̒̉s̸̛̘͆́̈́ ̶̛̼͌̔̕w̵͚͔̻̤̑̅̾ö̴̫̀r̴̩͉͙̟͛̈́ş̵̣̒͗̒̽ȩ̷͖̅̅ ̴̧̝͊̈́͝f̴̗̼̺͒̂o̴̩̥͊͛̔͠r̸͓͇͐͋͒͑ ̷̫̥͙̔y̴̲͖͚̓̔͌̚o̸̫̲͚͈̐ǘ̶̻̣̣͖r̵̻͂̾s̷͉͐̋ë̶̤̀͆͜͝l̸̢̠̝̈́̐̂f̸̺̒͋.̶͚͋.̶͕̟͛͗͐ͅ.̶̧̒̋͛ͅ ̴̡̖̙̤̀͘Y̷͔̙͖͌̋͠͝ó̶̢̼͜ǘ̵̼̭͚͕͛ ̸̛̯̳̆à̵̢͖͊ŗ̵̜͇̍͌̓̇͜e̴̻͖̋͜ ̸͔͠o̵͖̝͎͌̐̀͌n̶̬̺̯̪̓̔̒͌l̷̖̯̰͝ͅy̷̱̓͒͊͘ ̴͍̼͗̎̀̓m̴̙̩͓̫͛̏ä̷̧̈́k̴̨̹̼̚ĭ̶̗̣̉̌̀n̸̩͌̽́g̷̩̦͑́ ̷̺̲͇̥̀͐t̴̢̧̗̥̀͑̀h̷̢̼̩̹͒̀̚i̶̬͐ş̴̘̚ ̵̜̭͎̾̆̔͝w̵̼̻̓͂o̴͔̻̲͝r̶̮̥̹̉̽̋s̶͍̀̒e̷̜̝̭͆̀̓̚ ̷̛͇̪̀f̶̯̩͌̽ȏ̵́ͅr̵̝͂͠͝ ̴̗͋̾̋̈́y̴͇̠̺̔̉̅͊o̸̘̮͒û̵̺͍̟̄r̴̪̺̎s̶̪͑é̸͇̲̦̫̅ļ̶̙̖͌f̵̯̲̬͇̓.̴͇͋̏͊̒.̵̡͇̣͚̊̑̕.̷̠͍̲̍̚ ̴̖̮̦̓̓͐̏Y̶̛̹͐͐͘o̷̢̫͍̦̔̆͝ů̶̬͎̳̍ ̵͚̞̳̀ͅǎ̸̙͝ř̴̳̗͔̠͑̐ḛ̸̳̋̇ ̶̺̿ó̴͕́̈́n̸̼͈̲̳̒̚ḻ̷̫̻̦̓͝y̷̬͐̀̂̕ ̴̧̓̍̆m̷̳̰̈́a̴̛̫͆̂k̵̡͎̯͘͘i̸̗͆n̴̨̩̍̂͝ĝ̶̨̙̫͈̂ ̴͉̋͑t̸̫̲̼͐ĥ̵̯̱̋í̵̥̠͐̍s̸͚̰͂ ̷͖͚̐̑ẃ̶̢̘͝͠o̸̪̰̺̚͠r̶̢̩̱̱͆̂̿š̷͕͙͌e̶̼͍̙͑͆͑̀ ̶͉̌̇f̸̜̬̈̏͝ơ̵̭͕͎̙̌̾ṛ̷̲͓̺͊̉͑͠ ̷̛͈̭͔̭͘̕y̷͇̼̲̐̏̌̔o̸̧̅͑͜ǘ̴̢̜̪̌͑ŕ̸̦͖̈́̒̆s̴͓͘ḙ̸̡̮̣͐̓̃l̷̝͍̔̔̅̾f̵͔́́.̴̢̳̫̦̋̄́.̶̘͓̳̅͆̑ͅ.̷̦͋ ̵̲͎̗̏̓͆̑Y̷̥͉̼̫̿̀ỏ̷̧̤̘͕̓͗̕ų̷͍͔̄̚ ̸͔̥̭͊̓̇ã̵̜̹̙r̷͚̪̰̓̕ẽ̶̛̘͈̋ ̷͖̣̦͕̃͋o̶͕̙͒̍́n̷̰͙̊͗l̷̖̠͒͘ỵ̵̰͇̙̔̒̓ ̶̧̛̖̩̑̚m̵̗̭̑̇̆̕a̷̧̕̕k̷͖̿̀͗í̴̭ͅņ̶̲̜͎̆͘ģ̴̘̼̙́͑ ̴͓̲̞̐t̷͈̝̀̒̎͊h̴̲̱̠̍i̶̙͈̘͙͌s̷̢̜͕̉ͅ ̸̗̱̆͜ẇ̵̢͖͒̃o̷͉̘̤͋̄͜ṟ̸̨̠̬͋̕s̷̙̟̱͂́̕͠ȇ̸̝̼͌ ̷̳̹̔̏͊ͅf̸̛̳̭̭̒ơ̸̢̬͕̂̍̌r̸͎͛̉ ̵̧̛̝̺́͌͊y̵̨͎̟̅͑o̴͙̙͎̐̇̀̍u̴̲͉̘̾̂̃ŕ̴̳͙͕͠ś̷͕̂̈́e̶̙̤̥̥̽͆l̴͔̳̭̤͋̕f̷̖̟̔̋̽̀.̴̻̦̎̊̊̏ͅ.̶̻͋̿.̵̨͇̮̄̈̕ ̷͕̲̩̃Y̵̰̙͒͛o̶̺͖̾̂͑͜͠u̷̧̗̗̱̾̐ ̸͔͓̝̾̑̀á̴̭͂r̵̡̟͑̐͆͝e̷̖̞͓̅͠ ̷̘̳̓̈́o̶̯͍̥͗n̵̤̒̄͆͘l̶͇̈́ý̴̼͊͘͠ ̴̦̽͑̀̅m̴̛̪̤̼̖̂́͋a̴̢̐̑̏̈k̵̨͓͖̑͐ḭ̶̲̒n̵̺̟̠͛͜͝͝͝g̸͇̭̖̦̍ ̸͍̽̇t̵͎̤̄̄́̃ḧ̵̡̤̘̼́͆͋̚i̴̱̎s̵̞͙̓ ̶͖̆̃̍͠ẁ̵̢̭ơ̵̠͓͓̳̒r̵̺̃͘s̴͖͔̋͠ë̸͈́̓͐͝ ̴̧̅̀f̶̖̰͌o̶̦͒̎͗r̴͚̞̪͒̊ ̶̝̪͑y̸̭̳͛̇͋ô̴̬̕͠u̸͈͂̔̒̈r̶̢̃̓s̴̗͑̔̂̾ē̷͉̦̫̅l̸̪̞͕̠̾͂̾f̵͖͓̗̀̈́.̸̛̳̀̉͠.̴͈͓͆.̸̗̓͋͂̋ Y̶͙̜͙͗ŏ̸̥͙ű̷̹ ̶̡͍̜̲̈́̎͝͝a̸̺̥͈̐́ŕ̶̼͍̎͝ȅ̵̬͇̙̠͋̃̾ ̸̞̓͝ö̷͓n̴̼͎̯͊ͅl̵̹̠̀y̷̡̠̭̆͐̀͗ ̵̳̝͑m̴̢̞̞̠̾̑à̴̢̌k̶̡͚̭̆̇i̶̧͎͈̍̏̚͝n̴̡̼̬̍̈g̷̗̦̜̈́́̔̕ ̸̡͍̼̔͆t̵͉͋̂͌͝ḫ̵̯͚̺͌i̷̪̥̓̕s̶̟̟̈́͜ ̴̯̗̝̃ͅw̵̡͐͌̌͘ő̶͇͚̙͒̾r̵̢̈́͒s̸͕̥̝̲̐͗̑̐e̶̖͗ ̴̞̔̇̅f̸̯̺̈́̉o̶̪͊r̷̮̪͎̖̅ ̸̢̼̓̀̕͜y̵̻̑͆̃͝o̵̗̬̓͘͝u̶̪̮̤̜̓̈́r̶̨̧͇̯̓s̷̙͎̳̏̃̊̒e̸͔͠l̷̗̯̙̿͠f̴̪͌͗̑.̴̺̜̠̓͗̐͛.̷̻̎̅͊.̴̼̬̱̈́̐̕ ̴̲̝̋̍͑͜Ý̷̲o̶̢̮͙̯͂̕͘ṵ̷̡̗̚ ̵̫̓͆̚a̷̻̯̭̓r̶̟͔̝͎̕é̸͉̉̇ ̶̰̪́ò̸̞̲͉n̶̫͉̰̪̑̋͝l̶̢͖̣̟̈́͂y̴̰͆̊̌ ̷̧̲͚͛̊̊m̵̺̫̰̓̾̈́͘a̸̘͛́k̸̹̖̩͖͋̇i̸̙͠n̵͌͊ͅg̵̛͍̎͌ ̶͔͑͜͜ẗ̸̻̭́͂̅h̵̦͙̯̭͊i̷̛̻͎͎͑̌̀s̶̡̝͝ ̶͕̰͍̔w̶͙̞͒̓͋̔o̵̡̖̬͚͒̀r̷̨̥̉̂̚s̶͉̗̬̅̃͌͜e̷̻̬͋̔̐ ̸̲͎̻̞̏f̴̰̘͕̉ö̸̘̦̝́̕r̴̟̩̣̠̂͝͝ ̶̫̤̅̚͜͝y̴̜͔̝͆͆ǫ̸̳͂̾̽ṷ̸̧͚͌̈́̕̚r̶̨͚͖̱̿̾̀́s̶͇̓e̶̜̺̣͓̐l̷̦̥̱͔̐f̷̩́.̶̜͌̓͑̕.̵͔̽.̵̡͈́̽̾͝ ̴͓͙͛̃̈́͝Y̶͈̯͛̓̏̕o̷̲̳͚̓͘u̶̬̲͊͜ ̷̦̒͑͊͒a̸̖̓r̴͓̔͋̚e̷͈̟̤͖̔͗̈́ ̷̡͔͒͋͛̌ö̸̯́͘ṋ̸̦͚͒̾̏l̷̠̼̐ỵ̴̖̘̲͂ ̷̛͔̘̦͈m̸̡̰̥̓͜a̴̞̗̫͂̿͛̃k̷̨̆͊̋ǐ̷̓̋͘͜n̴̟̂̕ġ̸̖̟̇ ̶͓̅͋ṱ̶̺̗̠̈́̑h̴͎̰͂̇ì̷̡̺̫s̷̬͚̆͌̔͜ͅ ̸̜͔͔̩͘͘w̴̱̥̤̉͆̽o̸̟̗̗̒͛̃͘r̶̠̰̂́̊͜s̴̟̺̒e̷͙͎͇̯̒̀̐͝ ̴̭̳̯͍̊̈f̷̛̼̻̩̹͒͐̈́ỏ̶̤̳͈r̷̡͉͎̹͐̽͘ ̴̞͙̤̋́̔͜y̸̙̳̱͉̍̅͒ȏ̸̧͓͖͍̇u̸̮̘̰̾̆̈́r̵̻̗͠s̸̲̼̍͊e̴̖̮͐̒̀̾ľ̵̗͝f̷͔̝̅.̸̙͐̉̉́.̶̻̪̅͛̈́͠.̸̨̯̟̽ ̷̗̎̃͜Y̴͉̗̔͗̈̽o̴̜̜̤͗͋̈́ͅu̴͕̔͛̌ ̴̱̭̏a̵̘͚̻͍͊̇͌ŗ̶̛̞̣̯̓̾͗e̸̲̱͊́̏͠ ̸̫̤͙̜̈o̴̠̣̓͆̀ͅͅǹ̶̲̖̲l̴̨̹̱̱̑̌̒y̶̫͛̈́̚ ̴̡̞̄́̑͝m̷̧̻̖̿̊á̷̭̖̈́̽̏k̸̯̪̝͙͒̊͗i̸̔͐ͅņ̸̲̖͈̌̑͌̍g̵͖̀ ̵̼̘̐ͅt̸̟́͆̍͘h̴̤̣͑̈̎i̴̒̆̕͜͠s̶̡̯͍̺̏͆́ ̴̜̤͉̫̈́̀w̷͓̬͖͋̆̆ó̷̡̹̭̻̐̅̍r̶̫̓̆̅s̵̝͔͓̩̀̿̆e̴̫̫̒̐ ̶̳̞̕f̷̞͖̖̍̅̂o̶͖̪̅r̴̗̫͍̱̃͝ ̶̯͌̄́̂y̶͕̫͚̾̆̿͠ó̷̳̮͍͍̇̇̚ȕ̸͓̝̹̐̒̂r̸̼̰̫̉̆s̶̨͙̰̞̀̀̔͠e̷͓̤̐͌ļ̷̼͉͋̊͋͘f̵̦̦͊͌.̴̯̜̚.̵̰̫̳͆̚.̴̨̨͙̣̇ ̶͙͓̈́͂̌͝Ỵ̶̰͐͜ͅö̵͎͙̏͒̈u̸͎̔́̀ ̸̞̩͎͌͒a̴̡̙͎̭͠r̶͎̓ͅẹ̶̟͈̝̉ ̸̩̫̤̽͑ͅo̸̺̘̐͑̐͝n̷̞̊l̷͙̄͊̈́͛ỵ̵͍̈́̾͊̒ ̶̱̽m̶̛̠̾̎̿a̵͎͒k̴̲̟̺̮͆̔̍̌i̶̅̓͜͠n̷̝̟̙̈́̆̉g̷̦̹͇̎͛̑ ̷̻̬̯̬͌́̂t̶̞̝͖͈̀́͆͘h̷͎̱͉̬͑̽̈́i̷͉͔̩̚s̸̙͍̜̽͛ ̷̘͓̽͛̾̾w̷̦̼̜̋͜ô̷͎̱͇̫̈r̴̨̰̭͒͗͜s̸̨͎̓͐̌e̶͔̦̓̑͘ ̴̯̻̝̑̉͘͘f̷̧̡̀͂̓o̸̰̮̱͎͌͊͝ŗ̶̛͇̈͛́ ̸͉̈ỳ̷̜̖͋ơ̵̬͓̹͆̎͒ȕ̶̡̬̜̉͊͘ŗ̵̳̓̈͝s̴̰̖͇͇̉̇̌̔ę̸̧͈͗l̵̗͋͒f̴̦̃͌͐͝.̷̼̭͌.̷̧́͂͌.̷̮͈̟̝̎̎̾̚ ̸͖̻͕̈Y̵̟͆̚o̶̭̚ū̷͙̝͐͝ ̷̪̳͓̈́͝a̴̗͗́ř̴̘͋̌e̴͙͒̋̾ ̶͕̻̍͐o̶̙̎̑̊n̷͇̍̇̒l̵̨̦̗̠̿̊y̵̥͉̞͌̅͂̿ͅ ̶̨̡̜̗͛m̸͖͐͋̾a̷͔̟͊̀ķ̸̣̞̲͑͋i̸͖͎̝̝͛n̶̤̹̒͆g̶̭̏́ ̷̯̯́͊̇̚ẗ̵̡̼̭́̊ḩ̶̗̰̬͂ĩ̷̺̈̀ͅs̷̖͕͕̼͊̑ ̶̮̯͍̥̑̂͝͝ẉ̷̧́o̷̡̾̈́͝r̶̨̜̖̲̓͐̃s̵̗͊̈̀ě̴̝̟̤̌̽̌ͅ ̸̨͎̹̤̃̔͋̓f̴̼̱̎͜͝͝ő̴͜͠r̶̛̳͊͝ ̷̭̝̒̍̎y̷̪̩̅̋o̵̘̼̅̐u̴̙̙̭̓ŗ̷͈̜̹̕ș̷͒́ẻ̵̙̟̓ĺ̸̢͖͇̤͌̈́͘f̸̡̾̕.̶͈̫̔̍.̵̡̭̰̜̋͝.̷̰̿̚ ̸̲͖͚̭̂̚Y̶̼̩̟̦͛o̵̱̜̪͗ụ̶͈̿̒ ̴̮̰͇̝͝a̶̛̦̔͊ȑ̴̘͉̖̺e̵͔̯͚̒̇ ̸̰̅̈́̊̊ó̷̰ņ̴̹̼̦̑l̵͈̮̻̏ỳ̶̯ ̵̞̄̒m̸̡̟͐ą̷̰̰̦̽͘̕͠k̸͙͑͗̒͘͜i̵̲̰̙̒͌̍̒ň̸̲͉̰͑́̈g̵̨̓̂ ̶̩̈̅͗t̵̜͍̲̝̃͝h̷̖̅̈́į̶͍̒̉s̸̛̘͆́̈́ ̶̛̼͌̔̕w̵͚͔̻̤̑̅̾ö̴̫̀r̴̩͉͙̟͛̈́ş̵̣̒͗̒̽ȩ̷͖̅̅ ̴̧̝͊̈́͝f̴̗̼̺͒̂o̴̩̥͊͛̔͠r̸͓͇͐͋͒͑ ̷̫̥͙̔y̴̲͖͚̓̔͌̚o̸̫̲͚͈̐ǘ̶̻̣̣͖r̵̻͂̾s̷͉͐̋ë̶̤̀͆͜͝l̸̢̠̝̈́̐̂f̸̺̒͋.̶͚͋.̶͕̟͛͗͐ͅ.̶̧̒̋͛ͅ ̴̡̖̙̤̀͘Y̷͔̙͖͌̋͠͝ó̶̢̼͜ǘ̵̼̭͚͕͛ ̸̛̯̳̆à̵̢͖͊ŗ̵̜͇̍͌̓̇͜e̴̻͖̋͜ ̸͔͠o̵͖̝͎͌̐̀͌n̶̬̺̯̪̓̔̒͌l̷̖̯̰͝ͅy̷̱̓͒͊͘ ̴͍̼͗̎̀̓m̴̙̩͓̫͛̏ä̷̧̈́k̴̨̹̼̚ĭ̶̗̣̉̌̀n̸̩͌̽́g̷̩̦͑́ ̷̺̲͇̥̀͐t̴̢̧̗̥̀͑̀h̷̢̼̩̹͒̀̚i̶̬͐ş̴̘̚ ̵̜̭͎̾̆̔͝w̵̼̻̓͂o̴͔̻̲͝r̶̮̥̹̉̽̋s̶͍̀̒e̷̜̝̭͆̀̓̚ ̷̛͇̪̀f̶̯̩͌̽ȏ̵́ͅr̵̝͂͠͝ ̴̗͋̾̋̈́y̴͇̠̺̔̉̅͊o̸̘̮͒û̵̺͍̟̄r̴̪̺̎s̶̪͑é̸͇̲̦̫̅ļ̶̙̖͌f̵̯̲̬͇̓.̴͇͋̏͊̒.̵̡͇̣͚̊̑̕.̷̠͍̲̍̚ ̴̖̮̦̓̓͐̏Y̶̛̹͐͐͘o̷̢̫͍̦̔̆͝ů̶̬͎̳̍ ̵͚̞̳̀ͅǎ̸̙͝ř̴̳̗͔̠͑̐ḛ̸̳̋̇ ̶̺̿ó̴͕́̈́n̸̼͈̲̳̒̚ḻ̷̫̻̦̓͝y̷̬͐̀̂̕ ̴̧̓̍̆m̷̳̰̈́a̴̛̫͆̂k̵̡͎̯͘͘i̸̗͆n̴̨̩̍̂͝ĝ̶̨̙̫͈̂ ̴͉̋͑t̸̫̲̼͐ĥ̵̯̱̋í̵̥̠͐̍s̸͚̰͂ ̷͖͚̐̑ẃ̶̢̘͝͠o̸̪̰̺̚͠r̶̢̩̱̱͆̂̿š̷͕͙͌e̶̼͍̙͑͆͑̀ ̶͉̌̇f̸̜̬̈̏͝ơ̵̭͕͎̙̌̾ṛ̷̲͓̺͊̉͑͠ ̷̛͈̭͔̭͘̕y̷͇̼̲̐̏̌̔o̸̧̅͑͜ǘ̴̢̜̪̌͑ŕ̸̦͖̈́̒̆s̴͓͘ḙ̸̡̮̣͐̓̃l̷̝͍̔̔̅̾f̵͔́́.̴̢̳̫̦̋̄́.̶̘͓̳̅͆̑ͅ.̷̦͋ ̵̲͎̗̏̓͆̑Y̷̥͉̼̫̿̀ỏ̷̧̤̘͕̓͗̕ų̷͍͔̄̚ ̸͔̥̭͊̓̇ã̵̜̹̙r̷͚̪̰̓̕ẽ̶̛̘͈̋ ̷͖̣̦͕̃͋o̶͕̙͒̍́n̷̰͙̊͗l̷̖̠͒͘ỵ̵̰͇̙̔̒̓ ̶̧̛̖̩̑̚m̵̗̭̑̇̆̕a̷̧̕̕k̷͖̿̀͗í̴̭ͅņ̶̲̜͎̆͘ģ̴̘̼̙́͑ ̴͓̲̞̐t̷͈̝̀̒̎͊h̴̲̱̠̍i̶̙͈̘͙͌s̷̢̜͕̉ͅ ̸̗̱̆͜ẇ̵̢͖͒̃o̷͉̘̤͋̄͜ṟ̸̨̠̬͋̕s̷̙̟̱͂́̕͠ȇ̸̝̼͌ ̷̳̹̔̏͊ͅf̸̛̳̭̭̒ơ̸̢̬͕̂̍̌r̸͎͛̉ ̵̧̛̝̺́͌͊y̵̨͎̟̅͑o̴͙̙͎̐̇̀̍u̴̲͉̘̾̂̃ŕ̴̳͙͕͠ś̷͕̂̈́e̶̙̤̥̥̽͆l̴͔̳̭̤͋̕f̷̖̟̔̋̽̀.̴̻̦̎̊̊̏ͅ.̶̻͋̿.̵̨͇̮̄̈̕ ̷͕̲̩̃Y̵̰̙͒͛o̶̺͖̾̂͑͜͠u̷̧̗̗̱̾̐ ̸͔͓̝̾̑̀á̴̭͂r̵̡̟͑̐͆͝e̷̖̞͓̅͠ ̷̘̳̓̈́o̶̯͍̥͗n̵̤̒̄͆͘l̶͇̈́ý̴̼͊͘͠ ̴̦̽͑̀̅m̴̛̪̤̼̖̂́͋a̴̢̐̑̏̈k̵̨͓͖̑͐ḭ̶̲̒n̵̺̟̠͛͜͝͝͝g̸͇̭̖̦̍ ̸͍̽̇t̵͎̤̄̄́̃ḧ̵̡̤̘̼́͆͋̚i̴̱̎s̵̞͙̓ ̶͖̆̃̍͠ẁ̵̢̭ơ̵̠͓͓̳̒r̵̺̃͘s̴͖͔̋͠ë̸͈́̓͐͝ ̴̧̅̀f̶̖̰͌o̶̦͒̎͗r̴͚̞̪͒̊ ̶̝̪͑y̸̭̳͛̇͋ô̴̬̕͠u̸͈͂̔̒̈r̶̢̃̓s̴̗͑̔̂̾ē̷͉̦̫̅l̸̪̞͕̠̾͂̾f̵͖͓̗̀̈́.̸̛̳̀̉͠.̴͈͓͆.̸̗̓͋͂̋

Y̶͙̜͙͗ŏ̸̥͙ű̷̹ ̶̡͍̜̲̈́̎͝͝a̸̺̥͈̐́ŕ̶̼͍̎͝ȅ̵̬͇̙̠͋̃̾ ̸̞̓͝ö̷͓n̴̼͎̯͊ͅl̵̹̠̀y̷̡̠̭̆͐̀͗ ̵̳̝͑m̴̢̞̞̠̾̑à̴̢̌k̶̡͚̭̆̇i̶̧͎͈̍̏̚͝n̴̡̼̬̍̈g̷̗̦̜̈́́̔̕ ̸̡͍̼̔͆t̵͉͋̂͌͝ḫ̵̯͚̺͌i̷̪̥̓̕s̶̟̟̈́͜ ̴̯̗̝̃ͅw̵̡͐͌̌͘ő̶͇͚̙͒̾r̵̢̈́͒s̸͕̥̝̲̐͗̑̐e̶̖͗ ̴̞̔̇̅f̸̯̺̈́̉o̶̪͊r̷̮̪͎̖̅ ̸̢̼̓̀̕͜y̵̻̑͆̃͝o̵̗̬̓͘͝u̶̪̮̤̜̓̈́r̶̨̧͇̯̓s̷̙͎̳̏̃̊̒e̸͔͠l̷̗̯̙̿͠f̴̪͌͗̑.̴̺̜̠̓͗̐͛.̷̻̎̅͊.̴̼̬̱̈́̐̕ ̴̲̝̋̍͑͜Ý̷̲o̶̢̮͙̯͂̕͘ṵ̷̡̗̚ ̵̫̓͆̚a̷̻̯̭̓r̶̟͔̝͎̕é̸͉̉̇ ̶̰̪́ò̸̞̲͉n̶̫͉̰̪̑̋͝l̶̢͖̣̟̈́͂y̴̰͆̊̌ ̷̧̲͚͛̊̊m̵̺̫̰̓̾̈́͘a̸̘͛́k̸̹̖̩͖͋̇i̸̙͠n̵͌͊ͅg̵̛͍̎͌ ̶͔͑͜͜ẗ̸̻̭́͂̅h̵̦͙̯̭͊i̷̛̻͎͎͑̌̀s̶̡̝͝ ̶͕̰͍̔w̶͙̞͒̓͋̔o̵̡̖̬͚͒̀r̷̨̥̉̂̚s̶͉̗̬̅̃͌͜e̷̻̬͋̔̐ ̸̲͎̻̞̏f̴̰̘͕̉ö̸̘̦̝́̕r̴̟̩̣̠̂͝͝ ̶̫̤̅̚͜͝y̴̜͔̝͆͆ǫ̸̳͂̾̽ṷ̸̧͚͌̈́̕̚r̶̨͚͖̱̿̾̀́s̶͇̓e̶̜̺̣͓̐l̷̦̥̱͔̐f̷̩́.̶̜͌̓͑̕.̵͔̽.̵̡͈́̽̾͝ ̴͓͙͛̃̈́͝Y̶͈̯͛̓̏̕o̷̲̳͚̓͘u̶̬̲͊͜ ̷̦̒͑͊͒a̸̖̓r̴͓̔͋̚e̷͈̟̤͖̔͗̈́ ̷̡͔͒͋͛̌ö̸̯́͘ṋ̸̦͚͒̾̏l̷̠̼̐ỵ̴̖̘̲͂ ̷̛͔̘̦͈m̸̡̰̥̓͜a̴̞̗̫͂̿͛̃k̷̨̆͊̋ǐ̷̓̋͘͜n̴̟̂̕ġ̸̖̟̇ ̶͓̅͋ṱ̶̺̗̠̈́̑h̴͎̰͂̇ì̷̡̺̫s̷̬͚̆͌̔͜ͅ ̸̜͔͔̩͘͘w̴̱̥̤̉͆̽o̸̟̗̗̒͛̃͘r̶̠̰̂́̊͜s̴̟̺̒e̷͙͎͇̯̒̀̐͝ ̴̭̳̯͍̊̈f̷̛̼̻̩̹͒͐̈́ỏ̶̤̳͈r̷̡͉͎̹͐̽͘ ̴̞͙̤̋́̔͜y̸̙̳̱͉̍̅͒ȏ̸̧͓͖͍̇u̸̮̘̰̾̆̈́r̵̻̗͠s̸̲̼̍͊e̴̖̮͐̒̀̾ľ̵̗͝f̷͔̝̅.̸̙͐̉̉́.̶̻̪̅͛̈́͠.̸̨̯̟̽ ̷̗̎̃͜Y̴͉̗̔͗̈̽o̴̜̜̤͗͋̈́ͅu̴͕̔͛̌ ̴̱̭̏a̵̘͚̻͍͊̇͌ŗ̶̛̞̣̯̓̾͗e̸̲̱͊́̏͠ ̸̫̤͙̜̈o̴̠̣̓͆̀ͅͅǹ̶̲̖̲l̴̨̹̱̱̑̌̒y̶̫͛̈́̚ ̴̡̞̄́̑͝m̷̧̻̖̿̊á̷̭̖̈́̽̏k̸̯̪̝͙͒̊͗i̸̔͐ͅņ̸̲̖͈̌̑͌̍g̵͖̀ ̵̼̘̐ͅt̸̟́͆̍͘h̴̤̣͑̈̎i̴̒̆̕͜͠s̶̡̯͍̺̏͆́ ̴̜̤͉̫̈́̀w̷͓̬͖͋̆̆ó̷̡̹̭̻̐̅̍r̶̫̓̆̅s̵̝͔͓̩̀̿̆e̴̫̫̒̐ ̶̳̞̕f̷̞͖̖̍̅̂o̶͖̪̅r̴̗̫͍̱̃͝ ̶̯͌̄́̂y̶͕̫͚̾̆̿͠ó̷̳̮͍͍̇̇̚ȕ̸͓̝̹̐̒̂r̸̼̰̫̉̆s̶̨͙̰̞̀̀̔͠e̷͓̤̐͌ļ̷̼͉͋̊͋͘f̵̦̦͊͌.̴̯̜̚.̵̰̫̳͆̚.̴̨̨͙̣̇ ̶͙͓̈́͂̌͝Ỵ̶̰͐͜ͅö̵͎͙̏͒̈u̸͎̔́̀ ̸̞̩͎͌͒a̴̡̙͎̭͠r̶͎̓ͅẹ̶̟͈̝̉ ̸̩̫̤̽͑ͅo̸̺̘̐͑̐͝n̷̞̊l̷͙̄͊̈́͛ỵ̵͍̈́̾͊̒ ̶̱̽m̶̛̠̾̎̿a̵͎͒k̴̲̟̺̮͆̔̍̌i̶̅̓͜͠n̷̝̟̙̈́̆̉g̷̦̹͇̎͛̑ ̷̻̬̯̬͌́̂t̶̞̝͖͈̀́͆͘h̷͎̱͉̬͑̽̈́i̷͉͔̩̚s̸̙͍̜̽͛ ̷̘͓̽͛̾̾w̷̦̼̜̋͜ô̷͎̱͇̫̈r̴̨̰̭͒͗͜s̸̨͎̓͐̌e̶͔̦̓̑͘ ̴̯̻̝̑̉͘͘f̷̧̡̀͂̓o̸̰̮̱͎͌͊͝ŗ̶̛͇̈͛́ ̸͉̈ỳ̷̜̖͋ơ̵̬͓̹͆̎͒ȕ̶̡̬̜̉͊͘ŗ̵̳̓̈͝s̴̰̖͇͇̉̇̌̔ę̸̧͈͗l̵̗͋͒f̴̦̃͌͐͝.̷̼̭͌.̷̧́͂͌.̷̮͈̟̝̎̎̾̚ ̸͖̻͕̈Y̵̟͆̚o̶̭̚ū̷͙̝͐͝ ̷̪̳͓̈́͝a̴̗͗́ř̴̘͋̌e̴͙͒̋̾ ̶͕̻̍͐o̶̙̎̑̊n̷͇̍̇̒l̵̨̦̗̠̿̊y̵̥͉̞͌̅͂̿ͅ ̶̨̡̜̗͛m̸͖͐͋̾a̷͔̟͊̀ķ̸̣̞̲͑͋i̸͖͎̝̝͛n̶̤̹̒͆g̶̭̏́ ̷̯̯́͊̇̚ẗ̵̡̼̭́̊ḩ̶̗̰̬͂ĩ̷̺̈̀ͅs̷̖͕͕̼͊̑ ̶̮̯͍̥̑̂͝͝ẉ̷̧́o̷̡̾̈́͝r̶̨̜̖̲̓͐̃s̵̗͊̈̀ě̴̝̟̤̌̽̌ͅ ̸̨͎̹̤̃̔͋̓f̴̼̱̎͜͝͝ő̴͜͠r̶̛̳͊͝ ̷̭̝̒̍̎y̷̪̩̅̋o̵̘̼̅̐u̴̙̙̭̓ŗ̷͈̜̹̕ș̷͒́ẻ̵̙̟̓ĺ̸̢͖͇̤͌̈́͘f̸̡̾̕.̶͈̫̔̍.̵̡̭̰̜̋͝.̷̰̿̚ ̸̲͖͚̭̂̚Y̶̼̩̟̦͛o̵̱̜̪͗ụ̶͈̿̒ ̴̮̰͇̝͝a̶̛̦̔͊ȑ̴̘͉̖̺e̵͔̯͚̒̇ ̸̰̅̈́̊̊ó̷̰ņ̴̹̼̦̑l̵͈̮̻̏ỳ̶̯ ̵̞̄̒m̸̡̟͐ą̷̰̰̦̽͘̕͠k̸͙͑͗̒͘͜i̵̲̰̙̒͌̍̒ň̸̲͉̰͑́̈g̵̨̓̂ ̶̩̈̅͗t̵̜͍̲̝̃͝h̷̖̅̈́į̶͍̒̉s̸̛̘͆́̈́ ̶̛̼͌̔̕w̵͚͔̻̤̑̅̾ö̴̫̀r̴̩͉͙̟͛̈́ş̵̣̒͗̒̽ȩ̷͖̅̅ ̴̧̝͊̈́͝f̴̗̼̺͒̂o̴̩̥͊͛̔͠r̸͓͇͐͋͒͑ ̷̫̥͙̔y̴̲͖͚̓̔͌̚o̸̫̲͚͈̐ǘ̶̻̣̣͖r̵̻͂̾s̷͉͐̋ë̶̤̀͆͜͝l̸̢̠̝̈́̐̂f̸̺̒͋.̶͚͋.̶͕̟͛͗͐ͅ.̶̧̒̋͛ͅ ̴̡̖̙̤̀͘Y̷͔̙͖͌̋͠͝ó̶̢̼͜ǘ̵̼̭͚͕͛ ̸̛̯̳̆à̵̢͖͊ŗ̵̜͇̍͌̓̇͜e̴̻͖̋͜ ̸͔͠o̵͖̝͎͌̐̀͌n̶̬̺̯̪̓̔̒͌l̷̖̯̰͝ͅy̷̱̓͒͊͘ ̴͍̼͗̎̀̓m̴̙̩͓̫͛̏ä̷̧̈́k̴̨̹̼̚ĭ̶̗̣̉̌̀n̸̩͌̽́g̷̩̦͑́ ̷̺̲͇̥̀͐t̴̢̧̗̥̀͑̀h̷̢̼̩̹͒̀̚i̶̬͐ş̴̘̚ ̵̜̭͎̾̆̔͝w̵̼̻̓͂o̴͔̻̲͝r̶̮̥̹̉̽̋s̶͍̀̒e̷̜̝̭͆̀̓̚ ̷̛͇̪̀f̶̯̩͌̽ȏ̵́ͅr̵̝͂͠͝ ̴̗͋̾̋̈́y̴͇̠̺̔̉̅͊o̸̘̮͒û̵̺͍̟̄r̴̪̺̎s̶̪͑é̸͇̲̦̫̅ļ̶̙̖͌f̵̯̲̬͇̓.̴͇͋̏͊̒.̵̡͇̣͚̊̑̕.̷̠͍̲̍̚ ̴̖̮̦̓̓͐̏Y̶̛̹͐͐͘o̷̢̫͍̦̔̆͝ů̶̬͎̳̍ ̵͚̞̳̀ͅǎ̸̙͝ř̴̳̗͔̠͑̐ḛ̸̳̋̇ ̶̺̿ó̴͕́̈́n̸̼͈̲̳̒̚ḻ̷̫̻̦̓͝y̷̬͐̀̂̕ ̴̧̓̍̆m̷̳̰̈́a̴̛̫͆̂k̵̡͎̯͘͘i̸̗͆n̴̨̩̍̂͝ĝ̶̨̙̫͈̂ ̴͉̋͑t̸̫̲̼͐ĥ̵̯̱̋í̵̥̠͐̍s̸͚̰͂ ̷͖͚̐̑ẃ̶̢̘͝͠o̸̪̰̺̚͠r̶̢̩̱̱͆̂̿š̷͕͙͌e̶̼͍̙͑͆͑̀ ̶͉̌̇f̸̜̬̈̏͝ơ̵̭͕͎̙̌̾ṛ̷̲͓̺͊̉͑͠ ̷̛͈̭͔̭͘̕y̷͇̼̲̐̏̌̔o̸̧̅͑͜ǘ̴̢̜̪̌͑ŕ̸̦͖̈́̒̆s̴͓͘ḙ̸̡̮̣͐̓̃l̷̝͍̔̔̅̾f̵͔́́.̴̢̳̫̦̋̄́.̶̘͓̳̅͆̑ͅ.̷̦͋ ̵̲͎̗̏̓͆̑Y̷̥͉̼̫̿̀ỏ̷̧̤̘͕̓͗̕ų̷͍͔̄̚ ̸͔̥̭͊̓̇ã̵̜̹̙r̷͚̪̰̓̕ẽ̶̛̘͈̋ ̷͖̣̦͕̃͋o̶͕̙͒̍́n̷̰͙̊͗l̷̖̠͒͘ỵ̵̰͇̙̔̒̓ ̶̧̛̖̩̑̚m̵̗̭̑̇̆̕a̷̧̕̕k̷͖̿̀͗í̴̭ͅņ̶̲̜͎̆͘ģ̴̘̼̙́͑ ̴͓̲̞̐t̷͈̝̀̒̎͊h̴̲̱̠̍i̶̙͈̘͙͌s̷̢̜͕̉ͅ ̸̗̱̆͜ẇ̵̢͖͒̃o̷͉̘̤͋̄͜ṟ̸̨̠̬͋̕s̷̙̟̱͂́̕͠ȇ̸̝̼͌ ̷̳̹̔̏͊ͅf̸̛̳̭̭̒ơ̸̢̬͕̂̍̌r̸͎͛̉ ̵̧̛̝̺́͌͊y̵̨͎̟̅͑o̴͙̙͎̐̇̀̍u̴̲͉̘̾̂̃ŕ̴̳͙͕͠ś̷͕̂̈́e̶̙̤̥̥̽͆l̴͔̳̭̤͋̕f̷̖̟̔̋̽̀.̴̻̦̎̊̊̏ͅ.̶̻͋̿.̵̨͇̮̄̈̕ ̷͕̲̩̃Y̵̰̙͒͛o̶̺͖̾̂͑͜͠u̷̧̗̗̱̾̐ ̸͔͓̝̾̑̀á̴̭͂r̵̡̟͑̐͆͝e̷̖̞͓̅͠ ̷̘̳̓̈́o̶̯͍̥͗n̵̤̒̄͆͘l̶͇̈́ý̴̼͊͘͠ ̴̦̽͑̀̅m̴̛̪̤̼̖̂́͋a̴̢̐̑̏̈k̵̨͓͖̑͐ḭ̶̲̒n̵̺̟̠͛͜͝͝͝g̸͇̭̖̦̍ ̸͍̽̇t̵͎̤̄̄́̃ḧ̵̡̤̘̼́͆͋̚i̴̱̎s̵̞͙̓ ̶͖̆̃̍͠ẁ̵̢̭ơ̵̠͓͓̳̒r̵̺̃͘s̴͖͔̋͠ë̸͈́̓͐͝ ̴̧̅̀f̶̖̰͌o̶̦͒̎͗r̴͚̞̪͒̊ ̶̝̪͑y̸̭̳͛̇͋ô̴̬̕͠u̸͈͂̔̒̈r̶̢̃̓s̴̗͑̔̂̾ē̷͉̦̫̅l̸̪̞͕̠̾͂̾f̵͖͓̗̀̈́.̸̛̳̀̉͠.̴͈͓͆.̸̓


25 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

コメント


bottom of page