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The three word story thread of Walter Harvey.

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Anselyn

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 soul jarring similarity

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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 soul jarring similarity between those protrusive

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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 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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's,

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gazza567

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of

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Anselyn

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle

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Justin F

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally

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gazza567

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows

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Anselyn

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt

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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 as he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of his Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadowsof hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that

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submitswfa

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the

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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 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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved

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Anselyn

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting

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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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!"

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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 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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother

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Justin F

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs

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ninthcouncil

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded

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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 as he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of his Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of her's, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of

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Anselyn

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man

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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 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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to

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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 as he gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to meet that of his Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to vist her during

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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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to vist her during a gibbous moon

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Anselyn

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to vist her during a gibbous moon, he'd never learnt.

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Cthimothy

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to vist her during a gibbous moon, he'd never learnt.

 

These, my words

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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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to vist her during a gibbous moon, he'd never learnt.

 

These, my words must never be

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PhoneCallOfCthulhu

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 Grandmother's.

 

"I immediately recognized a soul jarring similarity between those protrusive eyes of hers, the eyes of the abominable gargoyle that lurked abysmally within the shadows of hewn basalt cyclopean masonary that darkens, and the face he shaved obsessively until spurting pus this morning!" How his mother shaved her legs with the discarded razor blades of the dark man that used to visit her during a gibbous moon, he'd never learnt.

 

These, my words must never be forgotten. I swear

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