9.11.04
The dead rose in symphony..
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rakish grin frozen on his face.
Some of the dead hovering in the icy, dusty air of the large chamber had origins other than his own nasty past.
THEY.
stood like statues in the crypt, flesh and blood trapped in flickering webs of spectral light. A red fog seeped from the stone walls and drifted along the floor, rolling under the levitated feet of the ghosts.
THEY.
are off to take michael.
TEAR-STAINED FACE.
he cries.
