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... thing—that grinning, shadow-wrapped horror—my body reacted before my mind could.

I bolted straight into the cave.

Every step felt slower than it should have been, as if the very air had thickened, dragging against my limbs. My lungs burned, my vision blurred, and yet, I didn’t stop.

’Couldn’t.’

Something was crawling beneath my skin, something that wasn’t mine.

Shivering. Sweating. Hairs standing on end.

I’d faced monsters before—the manticore, th ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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