The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-17 22:00:14 -

The bullet hit the shoulder first. It punched through the Kevlar weave with a dull, wet thud, a sound like a heavy book dropped on a stone floor. Thomas Ashworth did not flinch. He did not gasp. He simply adjusted his grip on the M4 carbine and watched the man in the gray hoodie drop. The hallway of the community center smelled of floor wax and old sweat. The lights flickered. One bulb burst,...

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