E. “I hope you’re satisfied. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. Here he obtained some breakfast, and mounting the hill turned off into the fields on the right. She had even tried a needle and a catheter on a victim once, but had found that the process was so frustrating and slow that she barely gained any sustenance and had done the worst thing imaginable: wasted a kill.
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