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The three word story thread of Walter Harvey.

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boysmithers

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting

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Pookie

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte.

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting cadaverously ashen acolyte.Who had appeared

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Pookie

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under

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Taavi

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmothers tomb

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmothers tomb. The fleshy, pustular

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmothers tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmothers tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his

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Badger

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn"

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WiseWolf

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound

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Skyman

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn

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darryll

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young Walter and

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Noble

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young walter and he gritted his

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Butters

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young walter and he gritted his teeth and raised

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young Walter and he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to

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gladius

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young Walter and he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of

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Skyman

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young Walter as he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of his Grandmothers.

 

"I

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Dent Foster

Walter Harvey went into the old graveyard near the battered ruins of the old church. Upon opening the door to the Harvey family vault, Walter was overcome by the smell of his grandma, who had arisen with ichor dripping, from her niche. His eyes went blurred with tears as he realized the blasphemous truth of the legend behind his grandfather's disappearance. He stepped backwards, stumbling over the gelatinously obdurate form of a cultist gravedigger whose body had only partially been eaten away by fetid, suppurating mouths.

 

A grotesquely familiar feeling filled Walter: non-Euclidean panic. It is not within man's understanding to fathom the abysmal depths of stygian night that shriek and howl with relentless taunting from the stars. With a scream and legs flailing, Walter removed his trusty service revolver from his jacket and with a trembling finger he pulled back the trigger and emptied the revolver into his grandmother's rotting, cadaverously ashen acolyte, who had appeared arisen from under a slab covering his Grandmother's tomb. The fleshy, pustular form of the remains of his squamous, foetid relative opened wide her saurian orifice, reciting "Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn". At the sound of the last intonation, a solemn resolve settled over young Walter as he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of his Grandmothers.

 

"I immediately recognized a

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