Here lies all the tales of how the dead were forgotten, the marble made from the bones of those who knew too much. The chandelier made from the spinal fluid that make it sparkle so brightly. And no one will ever know why, expect for me of course. And I suppose you now, since you found out. But do know with each thing you know more questions and pain will bloom along the way.
ns 172.70.100.167da2
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Pass the Pen: Horror
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