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... /p>
Sure, I'm insane, but that doesn't mean I don't have manners. Even madness has its rules. You don't walk into someone's room uninvited—unless the room asks for you. And that trembling handle? That was permission. The three knocks? My polite little thank-you. An unspoken agreement, sealed in silence.
Consent is consent.
The door creaked inward with the reluctant groan of old wood remembering pain. The darkness inside didn't rush out to greet me—it waited. Thick. Stagnant. L ...
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