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... seemed as if some ceremony or rite was underway, something that had been going on for an indeterminable period of time.
In Xu Qing’s eyes, the pentagonal log cabin almost seemed to be some sort of altar. That was because, on the corners of the pentagonal cabin, where the chains connected, sat three terrifying zombies.
The first zombie was dripping wet and so severely decayed that it was impossible to tell if it was male or female. It faced the log cabin, a tattered black robe draped ...
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