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

Prologue for BNHAD

1991, date, unknown. Entry…

In Wardour Street, preachers remain…Malice mor’day.

If you are reading this diary entry,  I was the last person that the British resistance needed,  the remaining of us, we're all dead. I am one of those verim.  The ones Channing called unreliable. England is much of a wasteland. I William Ethan Davies  will give you a story to tell. Malice mor'day.

A story of how I died, sacrificing myself, killing Channing, for a country I loved, yet, I still called home. 

Malice mor’day. We called it, how ironic,  “Malice mor’day.”.  Sounds kind of silly doesn't it?

They'd say “Down with Big Brother!”. In remembrance of Orwell,  I suppose some people forgot about that,  I did.   Equally they were born in a world where people were scared that the future would be nothing. Yet how silly they were,  I wasn't like that.   My remaining memories were something detained,  they had owned our memories. 

Our Quiet Dreams… Malice mor'day

Nothing belongs to us, scheduled for everything,  every second of the day.  Every hour. Malice mor'day

Particular of the government could break,  Channing showed us that.  I was immune to his propaganda.  For some time at least.  Until I  found out it was a lie. All lies .

I remember my face, my pain, my horror,  my horribly…disfigured face..
I was disfigured from the hairline of my face to my jaw.