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ArchetypeThe man holds a grimy hand to her mouth and whispers something I can't hear. She squirms against the alley wall, and she shrieks, muffled through fingers. I pull out my gun.
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The man's face jerks my way, and I look to his forehead. In the late evening darkness, glowing from his bald scalp is a violet tattoo: an X overlying a large circle. He's a Delinquent Archetype. A Thief.
"Step away from the woman!" I walk closer.
The Thief's eyes widen at my gun, but without missing a beat, he puts the girl between us and pulls her close. He has a knife pressed against her breast, where the tip pierces her blouse.
"You aren't going to do anything to this girl, are you Thief?" I say. "That wouldn't make your handlers too happy, you know." I press a button near the back of my gun, and the small, mounted screen blinks to life, displaying an ID number and a series of readings. One registers fear. It pulses. The Thief pales, almost to the girl's chalky degree.
This close, I can see pas
Sudden Midnight BreakthroughsHe's beautifully broken.
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She's an ugly mess.
He sees her as another though,
with a heart of hope,
and her eyes filled with aspirations
that could one day reach the sky.
He promised her the world.
He promised her the ability,
to touch the stars
with her fingertips,
standing on her toes
She remained hesitant
but reached out to grab his hand,
he took hers in his,
before she could catch her breath,
they locked their eyes,
that their past was finally
in the past,
and only to stay in their hearts
together at last, they mourned
their once indifferences.
This is who
they were to