Читать книгу Mutilated. Crypt of the Seven Angels онлайн

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Crushed roses! Where did this comparison come from. Roses, spikes, needles. They dug into the skin, and blood poured, as it happened to her now. Claire looked at the thick scarlet juice set up and frightened. It suddenly woke up persistent interest to her own bleeding wounds, and it struck her. She looked at the opened cut and vaguely saw many agony of many people. How scary, how attractively!

Her hand expires blood like once a long time ago. In consciousness, stabbing acute needle popped up. She stuck under the skin, and blood ran on a white cloth. Scarlet on white! Claire had a headache from blood loss and outbreaks in memory. Someone was near and squeezed her wounded hand. Like now. Someone grabbed her bleeding hand and raised gently to his lips. Someone with a disheveled face. Clare saw the burned lips, but she did not have the strength to scream. And when they appeared, a mutilated face was so close. She could touch him it she wanted. But for some reason it seemed to her that it should not be as she sees it.