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Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Rattling House
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... d on the dinner table, its pallid breasts cold as ice, its manhood turned blue by the snowstorm outside. Its shaved head stared at me with empty eyes and a ghastly smile.
I had no idea why this cadaver showcased parts belonging to both males and females. I suspected it was the result of the same kind of witchcraft that created my palace guards, or maybe the remnant of some older form of humanity preserved through the ages. Whatever its origin, I would be its end.
“Do not be shy, ...
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