The man's heart beat against his rib-cage like a pounding fist. A thick layer of sweat had formed across his brow. Constant fear of being discovered by those who were calling for his persecution reminded him to keep his head down and face hidden.
He entered into his North-London flat one final time to reclaim a handful of possessions. And at the top of the staircase, a man with several days of beard stubble waited.
The wolves would be eating tonight.
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