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Then

Prayer is such a fickle thing. You don't want to ask for too much, so you ask for too little. You even go as far as to believe that one man could make everything come true, that He will be your only saviour.

I prayed throughout my constant starvation. I wished for Mal to come back, save me. But, instead I was laying in my own waste while I slowly disintegrated, over and over and over again.

Thirst clawed at my throat, hunger coiled around my stomach like a viper, it poisoned  my sanity until I was nothing.

Then... Light streamed through, I could barely move an inch as an angel freed me from the torture. He gave me what I needed, what I wished for, Malachai gave me death.

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Cure for Goodness |K. PARKER|Where stories live. Discover now