[There isn’t much to see in a backdrop of grays, of bricks, of overcast hues like the film on a muddy sandbox, but there’s enough, isn’t there? At least for a vague glance, there’s enough. Boots, thick and leather, fine and mass produced. The side of a dusty. indescript pant. A flash of colored glass. The grip of a hand, curled and bloody
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Narrowing it down may take time, however. In light of recent events, there appear to be many individuals that would like to see the doctor meet an unfortunate end.
[ Isley, on the other hand, doesn't sound as though he cares one way or the other what happens to the killer of whores and other women. ]
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Wait, you think this is one of THOSE dreams, don't you? [And it makes sense, doesn't it?] I need to find out who it is. This-- it won't fix anything.
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What if it is?
What if it isn't?
[ A candle flame is snuffed out, or it continues to burn...but either way, the clock is ticking, and the length of wick is fading away. ]
I wonder if you'll try and save him.
[ He makes no reference as to whether he means the doctor, or the figure with the bloody hand. ]
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[He grinds his teeth.]
I want to save them all. Wasn't that the whole point of this?
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