The Pet of the Void

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2026-06-18 12:56:53 -

(V-07: Southern Gothic) The manor at Blackwood Creek was a skeletal thing, its white pillars peeling like dead skin under the oppressive humidity of the Georgia summer. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and old secrets. I remember the taste of the first rain. I remember the feeling of a hand on my forehead. But mostly, I remember the eyes. I am the Creator. Once, I spoke...

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