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My Monster

My Monster

A monster? The moment we step onto the grounds, the smell hits. It's the smell of copper and rot and something disgusting. My stomach lurches. Kira swears under her breath. Isaiah's jaw tightens as the backup soldiers fan out, their boots silent on the snow, their weapons drawn. Then the chanting reaches us. It's loud enough to vibrate in my bones. My hand rests on my stomach, my palm flattening over my bump on instinct. 'Please,' I think desperately. 'Please be okay.‘
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