Bleeding North Heirs And Defenders [Original] |Dedicated To Choicefics|

Dawn of a Simpler Era|.| Chapter 11 ---------------------------

Time: 3:21pm, February 6th Number 10, Downing Street,  London,  England,  United Kingdom. A party is being held. Not of party of fun, a party of lies and propaganda throughout.  Another blood warning.
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Enjoy this chapter
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He works so that you'll doubt God's provision for you, no chair was big enough, especially the ones in Number 10.

When he arrived, he sat down on the seat that was prepared for him. There were empty seats, but he sat down beside her. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and heard them. A party of which. While the beggars can't all be choosers. "Channing, sir, if we restrain the British population. It will wreak havoc across England. The damage to the Blight seems nerved! We aren't on a simple track of mind, we're the government sir, I promise you, the man himself will be mad. Her majesty was shot dead, by our stereotypical understanding. THIS IS —--!". Embry shouted as he shredded his bloody papers, trying to hide the evidence he had of the operation. Channing's facial expression grew pissed, he glared at Embry, the other's expression grew panicked, he tried to scoot out of his chair, unable to, before shooting him with his pistol, his blood dripping from his forehead, his warm dead body dropped off his chair, blood leaking onto the ground, his pupils rolled to the back of his now bloody head, almost touching his skull, his mouth wide open, held open with force. Channing shrugged, standing up with his crutch under his arm as he saw in the spot Embry had vacated from . "Anyone else have any bright ideas from Mr. Brightside?" Channing looked at everyone around him and smiled. They all shook their heads, Alexander was talking with a colleague "We take the profits, they can take the blame themselves, redacting is more simple than it should. ". Channing smiled eerily, "Good.". "From the moment a human is born to the day they die, they work.". Alexander stood, reading his daily dose of propaganda, his smile wicked and grouchy in tone, it was unsettling. He reminded himself with new surveillance cameras watching everyone. A new television show called, 'Did They Really Do That?' aired across the nation showing the vermin to Channing's lies, explaining what to do and what not to do, it was hosted by Embry from 1988 to 1991, where it explains our world leaders ban religion and talk of God in the future, only Channing. In this society, the only currency anyone has is his life expectancy. The ruling class oppresses the masses of poor citizens by forcing them to trade days of life for the basic goods and services needed for survival. And that all learning is banned from society. The eyes of lies are totally rewritten and all books are destroyed, burnt. The only thing society has is the propaganda given to it by its oppressive ruling class.The army? There's nothing left of them, they're old and tired, wide eyed and starving, only the ones who lived during the second world war are all that's left, most went to suicide like the rest of the population.
|London tube, entering Waterloo Station,  20:45pm|
Ethan scuffles, his eyes tired from the lies of every direction and everyone, he spoke; "Their memories, they had something. All that we had, was that gone so quickly?". Remember that man Ethan from chapter seven? That's him speaking to you. The male occupies a place or location. Fast-tracking. Gas-turbines roaring across, baggage cars shifting left and right, his child cried in a messenger bag, he wouldn't stop, howling almost. He needed immediate attention, it drew many faces upwards, their faces of distrust, "It's a rat... A RAT!". The man who screamed that was a Bristol Pilot, he had gone mad, not remembering, sometimes we envy him all, not remembering anything. Utterly unremarkable; the man was a tall, slim British everyman, a man of no remarks, just madness roaming like fish in a bowl, after all, he had nothing. The train stopped, Waterloo Station. "Mind the gap. Mind the gap.". Nobody got off, they just stared. He never spoke, "Let Waterloo. Be where the rats go, Mr Davis.". Ethan grabbed his gun, glaring. "I'll shoot! ALL OF YA!"' He shot one, Alice Williams, her head flipped back and straight into the closing doors, "Doors closing.". The robotic voice spoke, crushing her head as blood covered everyone's face, they hissed and salvaged the body for fresh meat, before turning and hissing towards the other. "GET HIM AND THE RAT!. ". The Bristol Pilot screeched, his eyes wide and in a smile, food, it was on his mind.

|OK, announcement,  I genuinely don't know if I should continue writing this.  Especially if the government right now is a shit tip with Boris standing down for absolutely nothing wrong  in first place. 🙄.  I'll just confirm if want to continue or not. But if I genuinely want to continue. And er 839 words, another record for a day.  Vic out|