• Prologue •

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I look down at my hands. They're soaked with blood. Bits of flesh still cling to my nails.

Not this again.

My heart races.

I look up slowly and see the corpses.

"See? It wasn't bad, was it? You're growing stronger, my angel." A voice coos to me like a mother to their child.

No.

No.

NO.

I clench my teeth, struggling to keep myself from ripping the savoury, succulent flesh from my victims' bones.

"Mama is proud of you."

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