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> Mad Men., Prolouge
Yumaseven
Posted: August 06, 2008 11:04 pm
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"I'm so alone."

Mark gazed at the break in the barrier, and saw only the hungry, blank, stares of his family. His kin. Their had been others like Mark, though. They didn't make the sound of the hungry... the insistent moaning. Instead, most of them just sat and cried. "Or just bitched in my opinion." Mark defiantly grumbled. He let the survivors into his home when the dead started to rise out of the graves like the worms that had festered in their organs...worst decision in his life.


They called him a mad man because he kept his family under lock and key in the basement. They told him his family was lost to him. They had been bitten. And they had to die. The men, women, and children he had helped survive the apocalypse began to tear at his food supplies, fighting like starving dogs over what was left of the years harvest. So he had decided to let his family out in the middle of the night. They did look hungry after all, and there was fresh meat in the house.


He thought again about how the screams had made a chill rise up and down his spine. The blood had soaked into the wall, and the stench of death and decay was every where. Even in the recesses of his mind, he couldn't get away from that foul smell. And he went their often. Mark laughed histarically in the darkness. In the distance, thunder boomed, masking the screams of the dead and dying. The lightning lit up the cabin, and everyone inside it. And the faces off those behind the barrier. Including the face of Mark's only son, Nikolai. Shorter than the rest of the undead, and in the best shape, considering he still had skin that hadn't rotted off. They were his own flesh and blood. They helped him get rid of those that had betrayed him by taking what was rightfully his. He looked again at his son, and started to weep uncontrollably. He reached for the amulet around his neck that he had taken from a deceased child, right before it had grabbed at his throat. He had stomped the kid's brains in afterwards, which seemed to stop the little devil.


Then a thought occured to him. He stopped sobbing; he had an idea. A wonderful, brilliant idea. He would never kill his kin. But he could join them. He got up off his makeshift seat, and walked slowly over to the barricade. He started tearing down the chairs, the tables, anything in the way of his family. His beloved family. The men and women of his clan seem to have moaned in an almost syncrhonized chorus of unholy hunger. When the last nailed board had come down, he got on his good knee, and beckoned his son into his fathers arms.


"Come, Nikolai. Come give your father a hug." Mark said, with a grin on his face you should only see in an asylum for the mentally unstable.And his son did as his father told him. He shuffled over to his father, and wrapped his cold, dead arms around him. Mark shut his eyes slowly. To Mark, it felt like he had gone back before the incident. Back when his family could speak english. And they told him they loved him. Then their came a burning sensation on the left side of his throat, followed by something warm trickling down his chest. But even that didn't bring him back from the dream he was experiencing. His insantity wouldn't let him. Nor could the approaching sounds of his family. He began to feel a tremendous amount of pain in his neck now, and it brought him back from dream land, to reality. He opened his eyes suddenly.


His family had surrounded him. They gave him a look of sorrow and then, they pounced. As they fed on him, his vision began to fade, as death's shroud clouded his vision. Blood was forming a pool at his feet. He could feel his skin being torn to shreds. One of his eyes was ripped from its socket, but the pain was so intense, he couldn't tell which one it had been.


He began to laugh.


And then he started to scream.



Hope you all liked it. Its gonna be the first of many, I hope. Any suggestions are welcome and appreciated. Thank you mallic for suggesting to put into paragraph form. I don't know why I didn't do it before biggrin.gif

This post has been edited by Yumaseven on August 07, 2008 03:05 am


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mallic
Posted: August 07, 2008 02:03 am
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its good but could you put it into paragraph form


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Yumaseven
Posted: August 07, 2008 03:10 am
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*BANG*

Carter fired his weapon at the horde of undead in front of him. "How did this street get so crowded so fast?". He hammered the trigger with all his might, until he heard a disheartening click. "Damn...last clip, too." he murmered. He took a quick glance at the nearest corpse, a mutilated form of what had maybe been...a police officer? He couldn't tell for sure, for the remains of those it had devoured had formed an elaborate cloak of sorts around itself. "Like the royalty of the damned," Carter thought, "and I'd kill myself before I joined their ranks.".


Carter through his weapon at it, hitting it square on the nose. The zombie fell backwards, and a satisfying crunch ensued. Carter smirked. Maybe he should have joined a professional baseball team. He knew he had the pitching arm for it... A rotting hand on his shoulder reminded him of his situation he was in, but a hard kick to the chest sent the hand and it's owner tumbling into the rest of the mindless crowd. " I need breathing room, and I need it now." Carter looked around, taking in his surrounding's. "Okay, lets see... zombies...more zombies... AH HAH!". Down the street, probably only 60 yards away, was an aging three story house, the only one on the block not demolished. He measured the odds of him making it without a bite. And they didn't look to good. After all, the only thing that stood between him and the house was a legion of undead. "Enough thinking for now. Time to act."


He aligned himself so that he was pointing directly at the house. He pushed his foot agaisnt the ground for all he was worth, gaining as much momentum as he could. The first thing he hit was a man whose face looked as if it had caved in to itself. He thought he could see maggots crawling through the remnants of the man's brain, and, pushing this thought from his mind, barreled through the rest of the undead. He through anything in his way into the rest of the zombies, all the while trying to stay in his feet. He couldn't trip, or slow down, or else it would all be over. He could feel his temples throbbing, his heart beating in his ears, drowning out everything else. He felt as though his lungs would explode, and just when he thought he was going to fall to the ground, he broke through the last wall of undead. He ran with renewed vigor, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He cleared the distance left between him and his salvation, and leapt to the top stair. He reached the door, twisted the knob, and pulled...to no avail. It was locked. And when he tried to ram it down with brute force, his failure told him it was boarded as well. "Get, or I'll start shootin! And if I hear some moanin', I'm gonna tear this door down and beat ya back to hell with my own two hands!" a burly voice said from behind the door.


Carter thought about asking again, but reasoned it would only get him into more trouble than he was in already. He stepped back and started looking for another entry point. That's when he noticed the gap the undead had closed since he had turned his thoughts to getting into the house. "Shit...". Carter shot a look to his left and right. He grinned when he saw a window to the far left side of the house. He ran over to it. After making sure he it was unboarded, and taking a few steps back, launched himself at the window. He slammed his right shoulder into the middle of the frame, and with a splintering crash, he landed on the carpet, surrounded in a sea of glass. His entire body was bleeding, yes, and he'd have to check for bites later, but at least he could rest for a moment. He rose slowly, and looked up...to the rather large shotgun barrel staring him in the face.


"Boy, you just made the worst mistake fo your life."


Okay, theirs part two. I may be wasting my time, but hey, I think this is fun. happy.gif

This post has been edited by Yumaseven on August 08, 2008 09:54 pm


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Elite viking
Posted: August 08, 2008 01:46 pm
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Lovely shorts you've got there Yumaseven wink.gif Maybe you could try yourself on some longer ones as well? I at least like to see the main guy live through it all tongue.gif
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Yumaseven
Posted: August 08, 2008 07:10 pm
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BEHOLD! The third installment. Maybe not as good as the others, though. Wrote two versions, but this one was the best in my opinion. Fourth one's gonna be a hell of alot longer. And a little bit more action-oriented. biggrin.gif



"Shit."

Carter had been trying to inch his pocket knife out of his back pocket, but with ropes constricting his movement, the task seemed near impossible. He had been locked in this dank basement for what seemed to be hours, and frankly, he would have prefered the man to come back and beat the living hell out of him again. Not only did it let him know the house had not been over run with zombies, but it also kept him awake. "At least I'm not dead..." Carter pondered on whether it was a wise idea to try and find shelter in a house occupied by a man with a gun, and if the other option, to stay outside with the undead, may have been more benificial for his health. He decided that it was better to be tied to a chair, than outside being eaten alive. He decided he would have one last go at the knife, and stretched for it again. His arm felt like it was being pulled out of it's joint, and sure enough...


*POP*


"F***!" Carter started to yell in agony, and tipped the chair over trying to rid himself of the immense pain in his upper arm and shoulder. The chair connected with the concrete floor, and Carter's head followed afterwards. He felt like he was dying, and he loathed every second of it. That's when he heard foot steps coming down the stairs. "What the hell you doin down there? Wastin my damn time...when I get down there, I'm gonna woop your ass!" said a voice he had come to recognized. He didn't know the man's name. But it didn't matter. Carter still hated the man. And if he ever did get free, he would kill him in a heart beat. Or maybe he would drag it out...


The door slammed open, and he got another glimpse of his torturer. This time though, he seemed a little less sober. "Get over here, ya little pansy!" He took two clumsy steps toward Carter. "Wake me up in the middle o' the night, will ya?" He got within arms reach of Carter, and grabbed the chair he was tied to. He settled it back on it's legs, only to punch Carter in the face, sending him and the chair sliding to the back of the room. Carter spit out a tooth and what seemed to be a pint of blood. The man walked forward, and grabbed Carter by his collar and lifted him into the air. "Seemin as you won't shut your mouth, I'm gonna kill you and do us both a favor!" The man threw another punch, and just as Carter thought it was all over, his collar ripped, letting him, and the chair fall to the ground. The chair, which had already been broken and repaired over many years, finally broke from the strain of age. It's legs snapped, and the ropes came loose.


Carter grinned.


He quickly regained composure, and rolled past the behemoth that had been beating him senseless since yesterday. But now he was free. And now, it was all over. The man looked at Carter, bewildered and amazed at what had happened. But he soon decided a dead man in a chair was still a dead man standing up. He charged Carter with all his might. Carter saw the man smile, revealing what few teeth he had left. But he stood his ground until the last moment. The man pulled back his left arm and swung with all his fury. And missed. He looked to his left to see Carter in mid-kick. The man felt a foot connect with his knee, effectively breaking it on contact. The man gave a howl of pain, and fell to the floor. Within a second Carter was upon him. And with a look of extreme pleasure, he took out his knife, and slit the man's throat. He got up just when the first spray of blood coated the wall. Within seconds, the room had been filled with the sounds of the man's frantic grunts, trying to stop the inevitable. Carter soon left the room, with a grin on his face, and blood stains on his hands.


This post has been edited by Yumaseven on August 09, 2008 03:16 am


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iliketoblowzombieheadsoff
Posted: August 11, 2008 08:51 am
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Oh. My. Gawshwpe,r;sdkf;lm,dvodisjef.gm!!!!!!!!!!!

That was so damn awesome!!!!!!!! Gawd, seriously, something new to read now!! Totally great stories, I love the idea of both, and the way you used grammar... your awesome mate. Keep writing!! Don't end up like me, who never wrote for a while. blink.gif
Don't expect much feedback here too, just keep on writing and kicking ass. smile.gif


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Yumaseven
Posted: August 12, 2008 01:05 am
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Hello everyone! laugh.gif The fourth part of Mad Men is here. Hope you enjoy it! (P.S This one explains alot about the main character. Feel free to wait for the next one, which will be a little more exciting.)


Carter reached the top stair, and fell face first on the floor. He rolled over, so that he was facing the ceiling. He took in an a ragged breath, and started to let his mind wander over the past week's events...


Carter opened his eye's. He looked over at the calender. August the twentieth. His birthday. His lonely, fortieth birthday. He closed his eye's, and forced himself out of bed. Turning the face of his digital clock towards him, he checked the time. 11:34. That meant he was late for work. Again. "I guess this is one of those days..." he said to himself. He did his stretches like he was told to do every morning by his physician, and headed over to the bathroom. He passed through the door, and lazily turned to face the mirror. He brushed his hand against his cheek to feel how the effect of time had taken a toll on his skin. He also took into account the bristles that scraped his hand on it's way across his face. "Man, oh man... you're not looking to good, Carter." he thought to himself. He grabbed his brush and toothpaste, only to find none left in the tube. "One of those days..." he repeated, and prepped the shower. Afterwards, he went downstairs, to fix himself breakfest. Finding nothing to his liking, he decided to head over to Fred's Bar and Grill, located on the outskirts of town. "Might as well get hammered now, so I don't have to later on..." Carter gathered his month's paycheck. F*** saving the money. He was in debt up to his eyes, and he had a few to many loans unpaid. Chance's were, if he started paying them now, he'd have them half paid off when they buried him in the dirt, in a coffin he never would be able to afford in the first place. There wouldn't be a funeral service, either. No one would have come. He stumbled outside, and walked over to his car. He looked around at the suburban neighborhood, and cursed himself for choosing to live in this monotonous hell. All
his neighbors talked the same, dressed the same. They even all drove the same car! That's why he had bought a jeep when he had moved there. To stand out. Now, everyone on his street hated him for refusing to be a damn clone. Carter opened the driver side door, and took a seat in the car. He looked at the broken radio, wishing he could put on some country music. He fumbled around for a second in his pocket, and finding his car keys, started her up.


He pulled out of his drive way, and was almost hit by a sedan speeding down the road away from the metropolitan area, swerving left and right. It was a miracle it hadn't hit him. "YOU DAMN FOOL!" Carter yelled at the driver, not caring if he had heard him. Those karate lessons hadn't taught him anything about self-control. In fact, he was expelled from any further lessons when he came to class drunk, and had tried to fight a sixteen year old black belt. Despite weighing one-hundred pounds more than the kid, he got his ass kicked. Just one more reason why he wasn't well liked in the neighborhood. He looked back down the road, and after making sure no more traffic was threatening to ram him, pulled all the way out of his driveway, and started heading towards Fred's. He was halfway there when he noticed the same car that had nearly hit him had crashed into a tree not to far off the right of the road. "Shit..." Carter said, hitting the brakes. He opened his door, and sprinted over to the crashed car. He nearly had reached it when he stopped abruptly. There was blood. Alot of it. It almost covered every window in the car, as if it had been hosed from the inside. The front wind shield had a hole in it, probably caused by a body being ejected from the car. Whoever had been in that car needed help, and they needed it right now. He started running towards the car again, faster than before, trying to see whether or not there was a survivor, or at least a body. He reached the door, and yanked it open. Nothing could have prepared him for the foul blast of air that greeted him. He fell backwards, and started to vomit. He layed there for a moment, stricken by the smell. Still weak from the stench, he pushed himself up, and, holding his sleeve to his nose, checked the inside of the car. Who ever had crashed was gone now. He looked into the back seat. More blood. The car had either more than one passenger, or the driver had robbed a blood bank. He reached further back into the seat, reaching for something nestled inbetween the seats. He pulled it out, and brought it to eye level. A handgun. The grip felt warm, and when he touched the tip of the barrel, it singed his finger. He cursed. "Shit..." That's when he heard it. A moan.


He shot up, and slammed his head into the interior roof of the car. He cursed. He looked around again, seeing if he had missed anything. It appeared he had.On the other side of the tree, laid a bloody body. He walked over, cautiously, remembering the weapon he had found in the car. He realized he was still holding the gun. "Better put that away." He reasoned, and stuck it in his back pocket. Half walking, half sneaking, he reached the body. He nudged the body with his foot. Nothing. He reached down, and with a little effort, had rolled what appeared to be a woman onto her back. He drew in a deep breath and held it. "Oh boy." he whispered. The woman wasn't going to make it. He could tell just by a brief glimpse of the injuries she had substained. Her face was more or destroyed, and her body was in no better condition. Skin was ripped. Muscles were visible. A few bones were pushing up through her tanktop. He looked over to her right, where an arm was hanging off from a sting of flesh. He could clearly see all her teeth, most of them gone or broken, but some were still intact. Then the lips moved. "Sh...oot me..." He couldn't hear a word, but he could read lips fairly well. Carter was astonished. She shouldn't be alive. She should have bled out by now. "Shoot...me...." she weezed, in a more commanding tone. Carter looked at her with the blankest face he could muster at a time like this. He looked her over one more time, taking in all the injuries. He noticed burn marks. A bullet wound he saw her on her knee had been bleeding for awhile now. He stopped. Something covered her legs. He edged in closer. Were those... bite marks? Deep ones,too. A dog, maybe? "Shoot...me...now..." she said in a weak voice. She looked him straight in the eyes. Carter saw how much pain she was experiencing just through that one gaze from her. He started to breath deeper, calming himself down. He pulled the gun out of his pocket. He pointed it at her. And that's when he saw her chest had stopped moving. She was gone. Confused, he turned around and started to walk back towards his car. Why was she driving away from the city, where the only hospital in miles could be found? Where had those bullets wounds come from? He had reached his car, and took one last look at the woman. To find she wasn't there. He looked at the surrounding area. Still no body. He walked back over to the crash. Reaching the very spot he was sure she had been, he took another look around the area. Nothing.


He was becoming frightened now. His fear was amplified by another moan, coming from the other side of the crash. "Listen lady, I don't know what you're sick game is," he said, walking over to the place the sound had eminated from, "but I'm going to stop playing around if you don't st..." He paused. What he saw made him sick to his stomach. The lady had tried to stand up, and had failed miserably. Her legs had snapped in half, from the knee down. She hadn't took any notice of the excrutiating pain she should have been feeling now. She was still trying to get up. "Shit! Are you all right?" He asked, jogging over to her. He had just about reached her when she shot her head towards him, revealing a pair of pale, white
eyes. "Lady... are you alright?" He asked once again, in a voice much more shaky than he meant. That's when she thrust her hand out, grabbing him by the collar. And when he least expected it, she went it for a bite. He screamed at the top of his lungs, and just when he thought he was going to get free...



"Don't move." a feminine voice said from behind him. He was about to tell this woman in a very elaborate way to go f*** herself, but when he turned around to face her, he saw a shiny pistol greeting him. Accepting he was in a bad condition that has a good chance of getting worse, Carter decided to try and negotiate. "Listen, I was just trying to find some shelter. I don't want any trouble."


A silence ensued. And a shot was fired.


If anyone has any suggestions or comments, go ahead and post them.

(P.S I just started writing the next part. Been slacking off lately...)

This post has been edited by Yumaseven on August 16, 2008 08:28 pm


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Yumaseven
Posted: August 19, 2008 04:50 am
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Been lazy lately, you probably won't see as many stories from me. School and all that. sad.gif

Carter felt his heart skip a beat. "This is it. This is how I'm going to die." he pondered on that particular thought, which was just one of many floating inside his skull. A second passed. Then another. He lifted an eyelid slightly, curious of where he was, but frightened of what he might see. Carter neve had been a pious man, and he was very aware of it. He was still sitting on the top step. And where there had been nothing before on the base of the stairs, laid the man in the basement. The one who had beaten him unconscious again and again over the past few days. And he seemed to be missing part of his head. "I believe I have just saved your life." a voice stated from behind him. Carter didn't turn around, though. He was to busy studying the recently deceased. "You don't look to good there, buddy." he joked, still wondering how the man had survived having his throat slit open. He took one last sweeping view of the dead man infront of him, and turned around, not knowing what to expect. What he did see shocked him. A older woman, maybe in her late fifty's, stood before him in a white lab coat. Carter sighed. "I was hoping for an elite special forces team , sent here to search for survivors still alive after the incident. But I guess you'll do, grandma." The woman furrowed her brow. "And I was expecting a respectful young man, not a smart-ass pass his zenith." she answered in an equally mocking voice. Carter tried his best to ignore the response, but he was a slightly hurt. He was still pretty young...wasn't he? He turned his attention back to the woman. "How did you get in here, anyway?" Carter asked. The woman looked back and pointed behind her, still carefully looking at Carter. "Through the front door." Carter cast a puzzling look at her. "That door had been barricaded." He slowly went for his knife. "How did you get in here. I'm not going to ask again." The woman gripped her gun a little tighter.


"I already told you. I went through the front door." she repeated, her voice tense with anticipation. "Get out of here. Now." Carter ordered, all the while wondering if he had the nerve to kill another survivor. The woman didn't move. "Leave." Carter said, pulling out his knife. The woman stared into his eyes, and he saw the determination burning inside them. "No." she stated in a calm voice. She pointed the gun at Carter. "I think you should be going now." the woman advised, knowing she had the upper hand in this fight. Carter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and took a leap of faith. He shot forward. The woman fired her gun. Pain richocheted inside Carter's left shoulder. Two more shots rang through the house. Carter felt a blast of air fly past his neck, and heard glass shatter behind him. The second shot ripped into his chest. He reached her just before she fired again, and sunk the blade into her gun wielding arm. He heard a satisfying scream of pain. He stepped back and kicked the gun out of her hand, hearing bones shatter. The woman fell to the ground, tears falling from her eyes as she descended. Carter dropped the knife. He knew he was going to bleed out. And as his vision faded to black, he felt his knees buckle underneath him. A memory seemed to have pushed through the fog though, because he heard the distinct voice of his father. "When you die, boy, make sure its in the arms of those you love." The voice rang through his head. And just before he lost consciousness, he felt tears form in his eyes.


Carter woke up in a corner. He was drowsy for a moment, until he remembered what had occured before he had slipped into oblivion. His eyes shot open, trying to evaluate his current situation. Carter jumped to his feet, bracing for the pain that would soon follow. "Damn it..." he murmered, feeling the sting of of torn flesh and shattered bone ripping through his arm. He shrugged off the pain. Carter took a momentary glimpse of the room. He noticed a slight glare coming off something metallic. He reached down, knowing long before he took hold of the handle that he was holding a blade. A sick grin began to spread across his face. He threw his head back and laughed. He calmed down, and noticed how strange felt. So alive. Maybe this is how you felt when death could be stalking you from a shadow. Carter threw his gaze upon a noise coming from the hallway. A loud gasp. A very lady like gasp. "It's not wise to spy on people like me. Because people like me tend not to like it." Carter said in a casual voice, and threw the knife at the shadow. A scream tore through the darkness the moment the knife struck the wall. "If I were you, I would have killed me when you had the chance." He strolled over to the knife and yanked it from the wall. "But you didn't." Carter looked into the hallway, getting a perfect view of the woman trying to open the front door. "Lady, I wouldn't do that." He realized that she wasn't listening. He shrugged. "Oh well. You were gonna die anyway." He began walking towards the woman at the door when he felt his boot drag across something. He looked down and saw the woman who had shot him before. Carter looked back at the girl at the door. "Shit." He said, knowing what would happen if that door opened. He sprinted towards the girl. And that's when the door slammed open, knocking the girl back. Carter stopped, and stared in disbelief at the mass of people in front of the house. There were more undead than he had thought there were previously. And they all had taken notice of the sound of the door.

Carter ran at the door with renewed vigor, determined to reach it before the undead did.


Yep, so that's all I had done in a week. Lazy bastard, ain't I? smile.gif

This post has been edited by Yumaseven on August 19, 2008 04:51 am


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DavidRoxZoRs
Posted: September 14, 2008 03:57 pm
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You should continue it man, its great!


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Yumaseven
Posted: September 21, 2008 11:49 pm
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I got so many F's on my report card, you might want to wait a little bit longer before you see any more of these...


P.S: HUZZAH!!! 200 Views!

P.S.S: Which were probably all mine.....

P.S.S.S: I got a story half way through, check back Sunday.

This post has been edited by Yumaseven on September 26, 2008 04:23 pm


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