I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was with me that I couldn't see. That I'm being watched from afar feeling. The lights flicker again, and again, the voices start. The lights come back on and there are 5 guys in trench coats and fedoras point .22 caliber pistols at me. I am immensely confused at this point, but more scared. One of them stepped forward, put his gun to my forehead and said, "Stop writing that story right now and never write for the paper again." It seems my story about random murders being tied to mob business has come to life. What was once just an interesting piece of had turned into a gun in my face and the possible end to my career before it had even started. The lights flicker again, and BANG BANG BANG!

The End

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