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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Special Circumstances - 7. The Offer

The radio blared in my ear. “Sierra X-ray to all mobiles, observation message to follow.”

My crewmate for this shift was Special Constable Constance “Connie” Palmer. Maybe it was Mike’s influence, but since he’d transferred to my station and began posting stuff on this Special’s Group of his, my shift had become quite popular with our station’s Specials. I was usually the one being crewed with them.

Not that I complained. I liked working with Specials. It was just slightly odd. All of them knew about Mike and me and wanted to know how we were doing as gay police couple. One even wanted to discuss one of my blue light run videos. I’d never had that before. Nearly all of them wanted me to pose with them for selfies which were immediately uploaded. I obliged, but Mike was more of a Social Media personage than me. I somehow felt exposed.

Connie took out her notebook and was ready to write down the details when the message came.

“Sierra X-ray to all mobiles, observation requested for a red Volkswagen Golf, index Alpha Lima Five Six Kilo Kilo Kilo. Heading into town on Windermere Road. Vehicle reported in relation to drug trading. Please stop check and inform this control.”

Connie turned to me. “Leon, how useful are these observation messages?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s the time delay between whatever creates these alerts and the messages being given to us? Won’t the car be gone by now?”

“Not necessarily. There it is.” I nodded towards the car in the traffic coming towards us. “I admit that’s a piece of luck.”

I was looking for a spot to turn safely while she updated Control. “Sierra X-ray, Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, for last.”

“One-Three-One, go ahead.”

“Vehicle sighted, trying to stop on Downtown Lane towards town centre.”

“Copied.”

I was able to turn quickly even without blues, and we were only a couple of cars behind our suspect vehicle.

My thoughts were already ahead. “Are you trained in pursuit commentary?”

“No, sorry, Leon.”

“No worries. If they make a runner. I’ll take comms, okay?”

“Yes. Sorry.” She sounded dismayed.

I needed to dispatch some confidence. “Again, no worries. If they stop, you’ll talk to them.”

“No problem,” she replied enthusiastically. I liked working with Specials.

Navigating behind the suspect vehicle was easy enough. At a good spot, I activated blue lights and siren. To my surprise, the car in front reacted to me without any issue and came to a textbook-like halt. Connie updated Control about stopping the car and got out to talk to the driver.

My radio signaled an incoming point-to-point call.

“Leon. Go ahead.”

An unexpected voice answered. “Hi, Leon. Jim from SDO here. You’ve got a visitor waiting.”

“I’m sure I haven’t got any appointment in my calendar. Can you check?”

“Oh, he said he didn’t have any appointment and he was willing to wait, but you should make it quick.”

That was odd. “Did he say what this is about?”

“No, sorry.”

“Maybe he brings news about my winning in the lottery.”

“Leon, you wouldn’t last a day without us!”

“Yeah, you’re right. Bring him a coffee, I’ll be back asap.”

I finished the call and observed Connie talking to the driver. It seemed like a calm conversation, no aggression or warning signs. She’d finished taking the driver’s details and got some papers. She made a PNC check on the driver. On the car radio, I heard the response. She returned the items to the driver and let him go. Then she returned to the car.

“And?”

“The guy bought the car a couple of days ago, and the change hasn’t been updated in the systems yet. He had a clean license, showed proof of insurance and the purchase contract.”

“Good.”

“He gave me the telephone number of the woman he’d bought it from. He’d gotten a good deal, and now he knows why. I warned him that until the changes come through, he might be stopped again.”

“Well done. Sorry, Connie, we need to head back to the station. I’ve got an unexpected visitor. When we’re there, you need to create an intelligence report about the telephone number. Have you done that before?”

“Yes, often.”

I turned off the blue lights and drove back to the station. During a workday, we were back in no time at all. I parked the car in the nearly empty car park. Connie went upstairs to complete the paperwork while I headed towards SDO.

I opened the door and put my head into the office. “Hi.”

Jim was cheerful as ever. “There you are, Leon. I put him into room two.”

“Thanks, mate.”

I went to room two from the station side, knocked, and entered. The visitor got up to shake hands.

“Ah, Constable Artois, how do you do?”

I shook the offered hand. “Mr. Morris-Walker. What a surprise. After our last meeting, I thought our paths wouldn’t cross again.”

“Please do not be offended, but I had hoped so, too. Shall we sit down?”

He bade me to sit in my own station. This guy was used to power, used to getting what he wanted. That annoyed me, but I sat down nonetheless.

He pointed at my bodycam. “Is this thing on?”

“No,” I said after I had verified.

“I need your help, Jamie.”

“And what can I do for you, Rupert?”

I remembered our meeting three months ago very well. How could I not? That conversation and its content had shaped my life since then. My inner restlessness was difficult to control. Running was the best cure. I now ran mostly at night so as not to be observed. My night vision had come in very handy. Some jobs had been a breeze because of it.

Generally, I’d stuck to my strategy of not thinking about powers and ghosts in any detail. I hadn’t yet recognised any other person with ‘superpowers’. I didn’t even know how widespread the phenomenon really was. Therefore, I’d pushed any questions of why and how out of my mind and settled in new routines. And now, Morris-Walker was invading my turf. Yet, he didn’t react to my defiance.

“I assume you have seen the news,” he said.

“No, I don’t follow the news. Anything important?”

He seemed a bit miffed. “You do not follow the news? Jamie, I am appalled.”

“I can’t change anything they report about, so why should I allow myself to be upset or annoyed? I get enough of that on my job.”

“Well, as it happens I have been appointed as Minister with the responsibility for Crime and Policing.”

That news changed the situation profoundly. Time to tone down. The mere parliamentarian I met three months ago was now a Minister of the Crown, a member of the government of the United Kingdom.

“Congratulations, Minister. You’re now the boss of all police in the country. Why would you need my help, if I may ask, sir?”

He leaned back in the chair. “The situation is delicate. There have so far been four incidents involving manifested entities including the one to which you were witness. It has been decided it would be prudent for me to get a bodyguard.” Morris-Walker leaned forward. “I thought of you.”

“You gotta be kidding me!”

“No, actually. You fit the bill perfectly,” he said and pulled out a folder, opened it, and read from a sheet. “You have eighty percent of the required training already.”

His suggestion was simply ridiculous. I was a street cop. “You’ve got the whole Protection Command to guard you, Minister.”

“Yes, and they will, Jamie, but I need somebody close to me who knows.” He stretched the last word and searched my eyes.

Yes, an encounter between a protection detail and a naked, two-metre guy who was invulnerable might lead to many questions being asked. “I see.”

“Good. You have martial arts experience which can be attributed. For you to fit into the Protection Command, Jamie, you just need,” he said and paused while going through the papers, “Advanced pursuit training, firearms training, and the protection course.”

“Might I ask what these papers are, Minister?”

“You may, young man. This is your personal file complete with psychological evaluation, this is a special report on you from GCHQ especially your German connections, this the same from MI5, and this is a report on your partner Michael Lane.”

How can he dare? “Minister, have you ever been to Berlin?”

“No, I have not. Why are you asking?”

“You should go to a place where you can learn something, the StaSi museum in former East Berlin.”

“What a cheap jibe to compare the United Kingdom with a communist suppressive regime. No, his Majesty’s government is not in the habit of spying on the likes of you, Jamie. These are manually created reports and those cost money. They were created upon my specific request.”

“You seem to have all well planned.”

“Oh dear, Jamie. Why do you think I gave you information and then let you walk out of my office as if nothing had ever happened? You are my backup plan. Unfortunately, one I need to use earlier than I had anticipated.”

What an arrogant asshole. “I see. Unfortunately, there’s a fundamental problem with your plan, Minister.”

“And what would that be?”

“I can’t protect a guy who despises me.”

He was honestly surprised by that statement. “Despise you? How on earth did you get the idea I would despise you, Jamie?”

In preparation for my visit to him three months ago, I had researched him and his politics. “Minister, I’m an openly out gay man. In your speeches to parliament, press releases and so on, you don’t let any opportunity pass to dish out against queer people.” I leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “I’m queer, Minister. Queer like a bent pipe, and I simply don’t want to work for someone who is constantly attacking my very being.”

“Oh dear,” he said.

With not a little schadenfreude, I saw he hadn’t anticipated my response.

He struggled for words. “I am sorry, Jamie. The party...”

Fuck his excuses. I interrupted. “I don’t care, Minister. If you really want my help, first, you’ll speak in support of queer rights and equality. Second, you’ll vote that way.”

“Oh, that is preposterous, Jamie! I cannot just change my stance like that. I would appear insincere.”

“Oh, yes, you can. How was that with the rubbish incinerator in Burton?” I’d indeed done my homework.

“There were circumstances,” he began.

I interrupted him again, “That’s my price, Minister.”

I leaned back and folded my arms. He was silent as he thought. He’d never accept.

Finally, he said, “This will not happen overnight. I will need to consult my policy and PR advisors, but I agree to your terms.”

That surprised me. “Really?”

What a spineless weasel, giving up his apparent positions so easily!

“Yes, I agree. You drive a hard bargain, Jamie.”

I didn’t want to work for this guy. “But,” I sputtered, leaning on the table, “But the courses you mentioned are the most difficult ones the police have to offer. They’ve got entry exams. I haven’t had a real pursuit in months. I would need to refresh all that before starting with the advanced pursuit training. That’s the easier one of the three. The firearms training is nine weeks alone and is half psych assessment. They’d probably conclude I wasn’t empathetic enough to carry firearms. The protection course, I don’t even have any idea about.”

“Oh dear,” he said. His upper crust accent was annoying. “Jamie, I am the Minister of the Crown with responsibility for the Police. The relevant departments have already agreed to your training based on your file and assessments.”

“They have?” Why was I surprised? What could I say now?

“Yes, and you will also not need to wait for a scheduled course. Your one-on-one training in these subjects begins tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!?” Was this guy out of his mind? “I can’t just,” I began.

This time, he interrupted me. He was very serious when he said, “Jamie, somebody is out to get me, and I do not have any time to waste.” He looked into the file and gave me a letter. “This is the formal transfer order for you. All relevant Met departments will receive the necessary files.”

He got up and was about to leave the room when I had an uncomfortable realisation. “Minister, what’s your special ability?”

“Jamie, you disappoint me. Have you not listened when I spoke about keeping secrets?”

“Just trying.”

He smiled, apparently amused by my reply. “I will see you at the end of your training. Have a jolly good time!”

Morris-Walker left. I still sat in the meeting room wondering about what had just happened. I took the letter and got up. I wasn’t happy about it, but there wasn’t much I could do about the transfer without damaging my career prospects. Truth to tell, this was actually a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I went to SDO to make a copy of the letter. Luckily, Jim was occupied with a customer, so I didn’t need to talk to him. The papers I held in my hand were life changing, but I didn’t have any time to dwell on them. I had to find my shift’s leaders, Inspector Patak and Sergeant Ward to inform them about me leaving the shift. First of all, though, I had to sort out Connie.

I found her in the report writing room. “How is it going?”

She beamed at me. “Hi, Leon. I’ve completed the intelligence report. Ready to head out again?”

“Very good. I’m sorry, something has come up. I need to cut our date short and ask you to be crewed with one of the others.”

She was disappointed. “That’s a pity. Did you get bad news?”

“Yes and no,” I replied while we walked to the Sergeant’s office. “Effective tomorrow, I’m transferred.”

“Oh, it means you’re leaving the station, right?”

I nodded.

“That’s a shame, you’re such a good crewmate for us Specials. Where are you going?”

“Training for Protection Command. That’s tough. We’ll see whether I make it.”

“You’ll do just fine,” she said, convinced. “While I’m personally not happy seeing you go, congratulations.”

I nodded my thanks, but didn’t reply, because we entered the sergeant’s office and waited till Sergeant Ward finished her phone call.

“Sorry, ma'am. I need to discuss something with you and the inspector. Can you please crew Connie with somebody else?”

“Sure,” she said and looked at the computer. She checked the records and then said, “Connie, please find Peter, shoulder number 1356. He’s Golf-Hotel One-Three-Six.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Connie said and left to find her new crewmate. I gave her the car keys to fetch her equipment.

Sergeant Ward and I went to the duty inspector’s office to find Inspector Patak. As usual, the door to the office was open.

She interrupted him typing. “I’m sorry, sir. Jamie would like to have a word with us.”

He leaned back in his office chair. “Certainly, what can I do for you, Jamie?”

No need dragging this out. I knew this wouldn’t go down well. Patak was a stickler for procedure, and this was unusual. “I’ve been transferred to training for Protection Command.”

He was indeed taken aback. “Protection Command? That isn’t in your development plan. When have you made a transfer request and who endorsed it? I surely haven’t known about this.”

“Nor did I, sir. I was informed just half an hour ago.” I handed him the letter.

He read it and exclaimed, “Training will start tomorrow. What are they thinking?”

It swayed him that I hadn’t instigated this. He was now angry at ‘them’, the person who had signed the transfer order, the Head of Personnel.

“How strange. That’s very sudden. I didn’t know they were looking for candidates instead of dealing with applications.” He put his annoyance at this breach of process aside. “Anyway, we’re unhappy to lose you, Jamie. I wish you all the best.”

“Well, congratulations from me, too,” Sergeant Ward said. “You now need to get started on handovers for all the jobs you have outstanding.”

For the remainder of the shift, Sergeant Ward and I worked hard to either close or distribute my outstanding jobs evenly among my colleagues.

However, the hardest piece of work was creating a good-bye message to my shift colleagues and the rest of the station. Sergeant Ward wanted to organise a farewell social. I was only able to stop her from doing that by explaining I might be back if I didn’t pass all of these courses. I didn’t want to burn any bridges.

There was only one person apart from my superiors who I had to tell in person. Talking to Nam was much more difficult. I had to reach him before he could access a terminal where he’d see the latest messages about newly allocated jobs and my farewell. I was able to intercept him when he entered the report writing room. I led him back into the empty corridor.

He knew this was unusual behaviour. “What’s up, Leon?”

“I’ve been transferred. Training starts tomorrow.”

“What transfer? Why didn’t you tell me?” He was visibly surprised.

“Well, till three hours ago, I hadn’t known myself. I’ve never made any transfer request.”

“What’s that bullshit? Are you transferred against your will?”

“Partially. It wasn’t my choice, but it’s an opportunity I intend to seize.”

“And where will you be going?”

“Training for advanced pursuit and firearms. If successful, Protection Command.”

He whistled. “Wow, the elite. Yes, I’d take that opportunity, too. What does Mike think about it?”

“I haven’t had any time to talk to him. I had to create handovers. Check your inbox.” I winked.

“Oh no! I hate you!” he said in mock disgust.

“Ha! You wish you could hate me.”

“You keep me posted, yeah?”

“Absolutely! I won’t lose my best friend just because we don’t work together anymore.” I gave him a hug.

I drove home. Two months ago, I’d officially moved in with Mike. Rebecca hadn’t been very happy to lose an easy flatmate, but she’d been more than happy for the two of us. Nam had given his green light, too, and so, I’d packed my meager belongings into four suitcases. Mike had found a place for all of it within half an hour, and that had been the move completed.

Tonight, our common shift patterns allowed for a quite normal evening. I had earlies, and Mike didn’t need to work this evening. We’d planned on a nice dinner and then just streaming a film in bed. However, I had to spoil that with my news. I parked the motorbike, and climbed the stairs up to the flat. Mike was working in the kitchen.

“Honey, I’m home.” I started with a joke between us.

“Nice,” he said angrily and continued working. That was unusual. I stowed the helmet on the fridge.

“Hey, you alright?” I asked while I got out of the thick jacket.

“No, I’m not alright.”

I went over to him to lean against the counter. “What happened?”

“You tell me, Jamie,” he said angrily, not looking at me. “How is it that I have to find out from a Social Media post that my boyfriend gets transferred?”

Shit! “Connie.”

“Yes, Connie. Posting the news about your transfer on the Special’s Group and asking me why I hadn’t said anything.”

“Look,” I began.

He ignored me and continued, “How could I say anything when my boyfriend makes life decisions without involving me?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that now, in person.”

“Oh, sorry, just write me a memo. The deal’s done, isn’t it?” He glared at me. I had to look away.

“Isn’t it?” he pressed.

I nodded and tried to get a word in. “Mike…”

“Don’t you Mike me, Jamie! Fucking Protection Command!”

Shit! Mike was understandably angry. He continued peeling potatoes. Those freshly peeled were thrown hard into a bowl where they bounced once or twice.

“That’s a drastic change in life, Jamie. In our life. Or at least in what I thought was our life. Seems that I was mistaken about our life.” He slammed the knife onto the counter, shoulders heaving.

“Mike, please.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Mike’s eyes threw daggers at me before he stomped downstairs. I heard the door being opened and indistinct voices. Mike stormed back to the potatoes, again not looking at me.

“You have a visitor, Jamie,” he said coldly.

Mike was followed at a more moderate pace by Chief Inspector Mwangi.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Why was everyone out to get me today?

The big Chief-Inspector was smiling as usual. “I’m sorry to impose on you again, gentlemen. I’d need to have a word with you, Jamie.”

Mike dropped the half-peeled potato and the knife on the worktop. “Of course, Chief Inspector. I’m superfluous here, anyway.” He took a jacket and stormed out.

“Mike!” I called after him. “Michael, wait!” I heard the door slam shut.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’ve come at an inopportune moment.”

“One could say that. The damage is done by my own idiocy. Please, Chief Inspector, have a seat.”

We sat down at the table.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I must confess my disappointment in you. My understanding was you wouldn’t interfere with an ongoing investigation.”

“It wasn’t my idea, sir! He turned up at the station today, demanded to see me, and handed me a transfer order.” I pulled the letter copy from a side pocket and handed it to him.

He didn’t read it. Instead, he just looked at me. “I know. To train you to join the Protection Command. Quite a jump for you, isn’t it?”

“Hell, yes. Would you miss such an opportunity?”

“Why did he request you, Jamie?”

Morris-Walkers words rang in my ear. ‘Nobody must ever know.’

This was the first time I lied to a superior officer. “I don’t know, sir. It seems he has taken a liking to me since my turning up at his constituency office.”

Mwangi raised an eyebrow.

“No, not that kind of liking!” I said defensively. “At least, I hope it isn’t that kind of liking. Maybe he liked the chutzpah. I don’t know.”

He stared at me for a moment before he continued. “To answer your question. No, I wouldn’t miss such an opportunity, and I don’t want you to, either. Quite on the contrary.”

Now it was my turn to look at him inquisitively.

“You see, Jamie, a lot of strange things happen around the distinguished minister.”

“Strange things?”

“Suffice to say you were involved in a strange thing at the same time he was around, weren’t you?”

I just nodded.

“We haven’t been able to penetrate his inner circle. Till now.” He leaned forward looking at me intensely.

“What are you saying?”

“As part of his close protection detail, you’ll be constantly around him. You’ll see who he’s in contact with and even may be privy to his whereabouts and plans.”

“You want me to spy on him for you?” I was disgusted at the idea.

“Jamie, I want you to do your duty as a Police Officer and participate in a covert investigation.”

“He’s a Member of Parliament, sir. I thought they were immune.”

“Parliamentary privilege extends to freedom of speech, freedom from arrest on civil matters, freedom of access to the sovereign and House matters, but it doesn’t extend to freedom from investigation or even arrest in criminal matters. Parliamentary Privilege Act 1770. You see, I have all the legal authority I need to investigate Mister Morris-Walker.”

I let that sink in for a moment. There wasn’t much I could say. “1770, huh?”

“1770,” he confirmed, nodding.

“I don’t like it, sir.” I felt uneasy.

Chief Inspector Mwangi leaned back in the chair. The first non-official gesture he’d ever made in my presence.

“I know you’re a man of principles. That’s why I put so much faith in you, Jamie. My parents came from a country full of corruption, and if there’s something I despise, it’s corruption and criminal governments. I won’t let them get away with it.”

He looked me straight in the eyes. I held his gaze and nodded my agreement.

“If you don’t find anything which warrants an investigation, we’ll close it. If you do find evidence for wrongdoing, would you want to have a criminal in charge of Policing?”

“No, sir.”

“I thought so.”

He got up. I did, too.

“I’ll contact you again once you have started your duties with the minister. Good luck with the courses. These won’t be easy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

We shook hands, and I went downstairs to see him out.

I tried calling Mike, but he didn’t respond. Where could he have gone? I focused on the light in the area. Using my enhanced abilities, I saw him sitting in his car. The driver’s side was covered in dark shadow I just noticed as a slight shade.

I went up to the passenger side. I tried opening it, but it was locked. I knocked gently at the window. Mike took a moment and then decided to open the door for me. I slipped into in the passenger seat.

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. I looked at him. After a while he looked at me. There were streaks of tears running down his cheeks, and it pierced my heart. I’d never seen him like this. He’d never been so vulnerable. I’d done this to the man I loved.

A big lump formed in my stomach. Apart from Nam, I’ve never cried in front of another man. I’d learned to be strong and build up defenses. One glance at Mike had torn them down. I started crying myself, exposing my own vulnerability despite all my instincts to keep it together.

“Mike, I’m so sorry! It wasn’t my choice! I love you so much! I’m so sorry!”

I moved to hug him. He didn’t evade me. We cried in each other’s arms. I felt weird. Strangely close, although this was strained moment in our relationship.

“I just got a transfer order! It wasn’t my choice!”

I didn’t know how long we hugged, but the seating position became physically uncomfortable. We held each other a short while longer before leaving the embrace. We sat in the car in silence. For how long, I couldn’t tell. I neither wanted to move nor wanted to say anything.

Mike broke the silence first. “Explain.”

I looked at Mike. “I was called back to the station to meet a visitor. That visitor was Morris-Walker who has been made minister with responsibility for Crime and Policing. He brazenly told me he wanted me as his bodyguard, because I’d apparently dealt with Darth Vader man who seems to keep pestering him. All I needed was extra training which he’d already organised, starting tomorrow.”

“What an arse. Do you just have to take it like that?”

“Yes and no. They can transfer me, but I could make a stink. That’s why Mwangi was here. He wants me to do it.”

“And why you? Of all 34,000 Met police, why you? Why is a bloody minister interested in you?” Mike was still angry.

I closed my eyes. ‘Nobody must ever know.’

“I don’t know,” I lied, and the knot in my stomach was back. “Mwangi asked the same question. Maybe the guy liked how I just turned up at his doorstep. Maybe because I’ve seen his stalker up close.” I looked at Mike, and I was sure it wasn’t a lie when I said, “Fact is he did what he did for his own reasons.”

“And what does the Chief Inspector have to do with all of that?”

“I’m sorry, Mike. I mustn’t tell. Not even you.” Covert officers must never disclose their work to anybody.

He sighed heavily, looked at me and asked, “And what happens now?”

I was shocked. Did he want to break up with me? I searched for his hand. “On our first date, I said being with a police officer has its own special demands.”

He squeezed my hand. “I know.” He sighed. “I know. It’s just … that fucking hurt. As if I didn’t count at all.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t how I wanted you to know.” Again, a short hardening of my grip which he reciprocated. “Tomorrow at nine, I have to report at the Specialist Training Centre in Gravesend. I’ll be told details then, but I assume the training is at least twelve weeks with full barracks accommodation. I may be able to come home at the weekends, but I wouldn’t count on that.”

We sat a moment longer holding hands. I knew Mike was thinking all of this over. He had more insight than most. Finally, he said, “Well, we’ll see.”

“Shall I help you with dinner?” I asked, smiling tentatively. I was glad he was talking to me and I wanted to help him.

“Gosh, no,” he said and smiled tentatively. “I want to eat something edible sometime tonight.”

We got out of his car. He locked it, and we went up the stairs back into the flat. As I trudged up the stairs behind Mike, I hoped this change wouldn’t be the end of our relationship.

Copyright © 2024 lawfulneutralmage; All Rights Reserved.
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A very special thank you to my editor @Mikiesboy and beta reader @CassieQ. Their support and advice has been invaluable.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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