/u/Markojpp's posts in /r/TwoSentenceHorror
Every time Claudia dreamed of what her therapist referred to as The Man Made Of Smoke, his muffled voice became clearer.
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I followed the trail of dirt and footprints until I found my husband setting up a camera in the living room.
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The growing shadow moved up the wall adjoining the staircase in lockstep with the loudening creaks of the old wooden stairs.
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The intricately carved music box had both started and stopped playing on its own, and the sudden absence of that sweet melody coaxed me to touch it.
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To be found by a priest in such a state, Margot thought, was a literal godsend, her tears mingling with freely flowing blood as she described how the gang of brutes had left her beaten and used.
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