The fire crackled like distant gunshots, keeping time beneath the old clock as midnight crept closer. Silver lights glinted off ornaments and steel alike, reminders that even on Christmas, Torn City never truly sleeps.
She sat there without moving, massive and unbothered, a silent enforcer wrapped in a red bow instead of body armor. The tree stood tall beside her, decorated like a victory trophy after a long year of battles won and grudges settled. Presents were stacked high, some earned, some taken, some never meant to be unwrapped at all.
Outside, snow softened the city’s edges. Inside, the rules stayed the same.
In Torn City, Christmas isn’t about peace.
It’s about surviving long enough to enjoy the quiet.
ENTRY 1:
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ENTRY 2:
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ENTRY 3:
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TORN CITY VERIFICATION ZOOM IN -- (In case it was too blurry to read in the picture)
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