It slid off flimsily. Mike is a simple guy, but he’ll see through any act of yours. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. In the next box hangs the rope by which he suffered. E.
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