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To walk around an unknown victorian house,

To walk around an unknown victorian house, with people I don't know. Some strange advice to leave, but I keep getting detracted by what is there. Too many strangers in this house. People I don't know acting strange. People start dying. Then a cutscene zooming into a puppy with big dark eyes. The eyes pull me in. Then I'm in a room of the house again and I'm watching a man die. He is nice and was making me feel comforted in this house, where I have only felt anxiety. I remember it was something that turned into a fit before he died. The puppy again shortly after he dies...Somehow I think the murderer is the puppy. After so many times…I grab the puppy and run. It turns into a kitten but it's clawing me and I react, and I feel the bones crunch. I am outside.. The yard is very large, I am in the garden. The garden is full of angels, I don't look at the angels and I don't blink. I set the kitten down. It's dead. I can't decide if I feel okay because it's murderer or terrible because it's a kitten. Mostly how did it become a kitten when it was just a puppy. The next death in the house is no longer a puppy and now they're all kittens. The last thing I see is a watch with pink straps in my hand. I am setting it down in the garden. The animals I brought down there are not there anymore. I notice more angels in the garden. I stare at one for a while. Realize a certain angel wearing the necklace of a recent victim…it's pink as well. The realization of each victim in the house becoming an angel in the garden kills me. Wakes me up. Whatever you want to call it.

To walk around an unknown victorian house,

To walk around an unknown victorian house, with people I don't know. Some strange advice to leave, but I keep getting detracted by what is there. People I don't know acting strange. People start dying. Then a cutscene zooming into a puppy with big dark eyes. The eyes pull me in. Then I'm in a room of the house again and I'm watching a man die. He is nice and was making me feel comforted in this house, where I have only felt anxiety. I remember it was something that turned into a fit before he died. The puppy again shortly after he dies...Somehow I think the murderer is the puppy. After so many times…I grab the puppy and run. It turns into a kitten but it's clawing me and I react, and I feel the bones crunch. I am outside.. The yard is very large, I am in the garden. The garden is full of angels, I don't look at the angels and I don't blink. I set the kitten down. It's dead. I can't decide if I feel okay because it's murderer or terrible because it's a kitten. Mostly how did it become a kitten when it was just a puppy. The next death in the house is no longer a puppy and now they're all kittens. The last thing I see is a watch with pink straps in my hand. I am setting it down in the garden. The animals I brought down there are not there anymore. I notice more angels in the garden. I stare at one for a while. Realize a certain angel wearing the necklace of a recent victim…it's pink as well. The realization of each victim in the house becoming an angel in the garden kills me. Wakes me up. Whatever you want to call it.

Having suspected a spy following Krsto, our

Having suspected a spy following Krsto, our two lovers arrived and left the public park separately. Zsusanna was there to see Krsto more than the play. It was a very humorous play. One of the actors, Romero, plays a man with a bushy beard and stood there holding his hand in triumph as people laughed. Zsusanna realized she knew so few people in that area. She had only Krsto’s circle of friends: a man in in very stylish suede boots, a woman whose voice narrated the story; a woman whose only voice was the melodic tunes of her lyre, and a bewitching siren, Krsto’s cousin. Bewitched by her lover behind stage, she also did not know that she, indeed, was being watched, or that he had caught a glimpse of someone stirring on the sides. Igor wore common clothing to blend with the townspeople, with a hat tilted to a side, and a patch to cover an eye. He hadn’t shaven in over a week to play the part as well. Jealous of Zsusanna’s presence in Edour’s life had become a hinderance for Istven’s aspiring role in the Protestant Reform, and in the next generation’s attempt to rebuild a country free of foreign rule. More so, he was wary of this woman who appeared from an outer circle, who was as equally educated, if not, more so than himself. What was an extraordinary woman doing being wed to a man who had no interest in women? More so, why did Jankovic agree to this farce? “Ugggggg,” as twisted pain seeped through his blood, and the sound of breaking bones, Igor could feel the point of a dagger piercing into the hairs of his neck. “I suggest you take your traitor self back to the Hungarian shit that spawned you. Get off this peninsula, and never show your face again.” “I am free to…” “You are not free to do anything.” and the crunch of a twisted wrist sent him off as two burly men in dark capes took him into a carriage, riding away, as Zsusanna felt desire dripping beneath her skirts. Istven had the scent of Ocean air about him; clean and light. He sat eating nuts and apricots as lightening lit the sky and the rumble of thunder approached. In his presence I am a ship battling a storm, wandering aimlessly. Sex is not okay with Istven. He has confusion around relationships. “What happened to you,” Zhusanna asked as she spotted Igor curdled in a chair by the window, unable to hold a book or turn its pages with bandaged hand and fingers on both sides. It was all he could do but spit at her. Marija found the encouragement to break the silence. “He no doubt wondered where he shouldn’t.” “I trust my cousin played the searing siren to perfection?” “The Adriatic would be, indeed, pleased!” “As your grandfather, as well.” Igor mentions to Zsusanna who looked bewildered at him. “Any sea-faring pirate of Senj would defend such a treasure!” Zsusanna mocked back, “But you wouldn’t know of such lust, Igor.” A bit of tension was building in the room. Zsusanna was not oblivious of Marija’s eye for Istven. She would just happen to appear outside his door in Reijeka or at the piazza, always appropriately placed five feet behind brother Antun or conniving Igor. Antun had studied law at university with Igor and Istven, together, in Austria. Marija was a woman, devious and determined, to get what she wanted. What she wanted was entitlement and Istven was the source for this wanna-a-be. Her dear husband Zoran, an unlucky man once the vows of marriage bound them, sweet, giving, and oblivious to the Upper Hungarian dragons, claiming loss to the Frankopan fortunes when ….was slain with my uncle and grandfather. One of thousands of noble widows dispersed without claims depending on beguiling ways of sanctity. 1693 carriage scene 2 hrs 1693 krsto and who he is 1693 Zsuzana AND ISTVEN BEGIN AFFAIR 1693 MARI POISONS HUSBAND ZORON SAVROVIC, AGE 31, 1693 TRUTH REVEALED KRSTO

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