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... . Hollowed out, nothing but black voids remain. A red tongue protrudes grotesquely from the cavity where a nose should be. My stomach lurches. I retch. Nothing comes. I gag again. My hands press against the corpse. Against its insides. My fingers sink into flesh, into organs, into warm, viscous blood.

I breathe rapidly. My heart pounds. My hands tremble.

His hair is like mine. Blonde. The only thing left of him.

He is mutilated. His legs—gone. His torso—slit open, his inn ...

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