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... d they called out to me. The ones I’d killed.

They grew from the trees like cancerous fruit. Some sprouted from hanging branches, others clustered in tumorous masses from the trunks themselves. Some rose up from the ground with bulging eyes and gnashing teeth.

The heads my axe had taken filled the sickened forest. They whispered, laughed, shouted as my unsteady feet navigated the tangled undergrowth. They snapped at the hem of my red cloak, sobbed, begged.

“Where are you ...

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