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Chapter 157

  • Rȗҽ
  • The wind howled in anger,past the dying trees. They were black like tar, creepy with branches bared of leaves. The air is stuffy, its odour of decaying corpses.
  • The ground is damp beneath my boots, moss around the base of the trees. My violet eyes scan the ugly area and noted that there was unmistakably witch dust scattered around.This place reeked of death.
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