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... se beneath me. What was left of him, anyway. His body—a withered husk of bone and skin—had been drained of everything vital. No blood, no organs, nothing but a shell, a grotesque shell, crumbling like old parchment.
I reached out, slow, deliberate, and grasped his skull. It had something in it. The brittle remains of his face were taut, pulled tight over bone, his skin stained deep crimson from where his eyes resided. The blood had poured from them in his final moments, carving grotesque ...
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