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... rm, and rotting. But right now, it was the safest place.

Oliver dared not to breathe too loud. Every rasp of air sounded deafening to his ears. Above him, the crunch of carapace against fang echoed — slow, deliberate, wet.

A claw scraped against the ground just inches from his exposed foot, and he clenched every muscle, praying the darkness would keep him hidden a little longer.

The stench of blood and bile filled his mouth. His body screamed for him to run, to crawl, to ...

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