created by ecmajor
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...It was then that the being slowly turned its eyeless head toward you, seeming to spear you with cold, malevolent regard upon the arrowhead of its fleshless snout. Beginning with a grating whisper that metamorphosed into a voice not unlike the sibilant hiss of wind through cracks in the tomb's stone masonry, it spoke.
"...Iiiiiff you cannot adore me," it paused, the brief, grit-eroded gulf in its terrible speech filled with nothing but need and scorn.
"...Then you will grovel before me."

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