It wasn't finding the head of the cockroach in my mouth that concerned me, it was that no matter how hard I searched I couldn't find the body in my bowl of stew.
I couldn't close the book, no more than I could tear my eyes away from the pages penned in blood, or scour from my mind the diagrams of rituals involving the precise placement of freshly-removed human entrails.
I had taken only two steps into my new apartment when red handprints all over the walls made me wonder if I'd ever walk out of this with my life, let alone by bond.
Megan turned on her headlamp and continued into the dark recesses of the cave, until she tripped over Jasper, or what was left, her cow that went missing yesterday.
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