Guided by the dark knowledge of the fry line, you place the coins on Corrie’s eyes just as they flutter open. She shudders and breathes syllables of an ancient language that burn your ears. With a crack of splintering wood, the Tentacle whips out from the back room and strikes like a python from the pits of Hell. Pinioning them in strong coils, it drags the shrieking criminals into the depths of the kitchen and its cooler.
Randall appears behind you, somewhat the worse for wear. “Thank you,” he says. “I see that you truly belong with us. Corrie has accepted you into our world.” He smiles, and you find yourself grinning back.
The Beginning.
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