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Seventy five B

Vlad

Dimitri walked in, bathed in sweat. My heart began pounding with raw fear and hatred for the swine.

He rushed to me, throwing the untouched plate of beans on my face.

I gasped in shock but got over it, relieved that it wasn't scalding hot. I wiped the gooey stuff off my face, breathing hard.

Dimitri's eyes were wild, unfocused, bloodthirsty, and burning with an anger that didn't scare me. As far as I was concerned, he was a fucking coward.

"I hate you so much," he spat. "I've never hated anyone in this world the way I hate you. And I can't wait to kill you. Give me the damn staff!

He began squeezing my throat with both hands in anger, choking me and making it difficult to breathe.

I could feel his hot breath on my face, and smell the bloodlust seeping through his pores like poison. The scent made my stomach churn. Dimitri always seemed to have some kind of smell, as if he had been bitten by some sort of bug. It smelled rotten and sickly.

Although it hurt, I felt a
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