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The knocking ceased suddenly and he heard the door opening. Mrs. White screamed, a scream so atrocious, so horrid, it forced Mr. White to break from his daze. He pushed himself up to a standing position and unhurriedly walked down the stairs.
He took only one glance out the door and saw only the whiplashes of thunder outside. It was only 4 p.m. but the night had turned black from the tourental downpour. There was a misty chill in the air. Thunder roared and lightning flashed. The street lamps that flickered provided the only things that provided light. The bare trees in the forest the otherside of the road were dressed in shadows, the arms swaying viontly in the racing wind.
That was the last word that ever left his cursed lips...
Just look at me, this is all your fault!
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