106: Darkness Rising Late

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An inhuman wail cut through the night. The cries continued, ceaselessly, echoing off ancient stone carved in blasphemous reliefs.
In the center of that pit was a coffin, a comparatively plain wooden box surrounded by the opulent carvings. Slowly, ever so slowly, the lid began to move. A hand, grave-pale and nearly skeletal, with nails as sharp as talons, emerged. The revenant's arm reached out and silenced the alarm clock.
Soon, he would rise and bring terror and plague to the mortal realm. Soon, he would usher in a new age of evil. He just needed five more minutes.

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