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the gates of hell
why must i be here, garding the fearsome gates?
louvre museum, paris 10:46 P.M.
oh to be free once more from my life again. to have my strung across a thousand different worlds and not feel anything. Yet i can't be this way ever again. though my soul morns for it. I know i must live for this world. In this world of ever changing pain. Up until recently I was happy because i didn't know what was going on in this world because, I resided in a thousand others. Since then i have been bought back seeking something I can't get. someone has chained me to this world and doesn't even know it. It had to happen anyhow. So i guess its all for the better.


Renowned curator Jacques saunie'e staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum's Grand Gallery. He lunged for the nearest painting he could see, a Caravaggio. grabbing the gilded frame, the seventy-six-year old man heaved the masterpiece toward himself until it tore from the wall and saunie're collapsed backward in a heap beneath the canvas.

As he had anticipated, a thundering iron gate fell nearby barricading the entrance to the suite





 
 
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