"Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. He lost control of the machine. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the doorway. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner.
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