You turn the corner, darkness flooding your soul as you do. You hear them breathing, you smell their scent: vanilla. You see them, glints of pale flesh in the dark of this abismal maze. Their flesh tortured, their souls destroyed. They look of corpses, animated to haunt the nightmares of children."Taste our pleasures," the one nearest you says as the hooks of Hell fall upon you, shredding your flesh.
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