A gunshot - it was the same dream again. The one he always had. He always missed that first shot, no matter how many times he dreamt of pulling the trigger.
The second shot ... a man groaned and slumped over. The man's voice... he could remember that final gasping moan better than he could any laugh or angry yell. Every time, the same sounds, the
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...You've known a lot of pain, haven't you.
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I'm used to it.
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Who are you?
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How did you see it?
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Who are you?
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I'll be fine.
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