gothic
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A trail of bright red drips extends down the hallway; remnants from last night’s little accident. The woman I live with let herself go a little too long between feedings in an attempt to lose weight and got so hungry she ended up draining one of her human friends. She said he was trying to…
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I caught slivers of the words the doctor whispered to Whalebone. Miscarried. Unfortunate, but perhaps for the best given my condition. I thought about that for a long time. What was my condition? Was it of the mind or of the body? I couldn’t say.
