47 Harsh pragmatism

As I navigate the eerily silent streets, the remnants of my previous life's memories cling to me like shadows at dusk. They weave into my current reality, a tapestry of past and present pain, drawing stark parallels that I cannot ignore. The people who kidnapped others, turning survivors into slaves, represent the darkest facets of humanity—a cruelty so profound it echoes through my lifetimes.

In the quiet of my mind, I contemplate these captors, these purveyors of despair. Their kind has always existed, morphing through history's many chapters, yet always driven by the same vile impulses. They prey on the vulnerable, exploit the weak, and strip away the very essence of humanity for their gain or twisted satisfaction. In my past life, I witnessed their ruthlessness firsthand, their pleasure in domination, and their cold indifference to suffering.