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... st thing that registered was the smell.
It wasn’t the kind of stench that made you gag immediately. No, this was more sinister. It crept in slowly—wet, coppery, like rotting seaweed soaked in blood. It lingered in the nose and clung to the throat like a film of mold, refusing to be exhaled. Even the thick respirator mask the man wore barely filtered it.
He ran anyway.
Boots slapped across stone, splashing through ankle-deep puddles that had collected in the uneven crevice ...
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