The Death of Claude Velocazzi

The sounds of dozens of limbs moving and stepping and shuffling in unison. Seeping under the door was something slick and colourless, a greasy residue that smelled overpoweringly of that sickly sweet odor. I took a step back suddenly nauseated and almost fell into the arms of Claude who would suddenly come up behind me. He held me for a moment looking with such intensity that I felt like he was weighing my soul, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed and shook his head. You do not belong here, you are not worthy of its love. Leave. Even after everything I'd seen, I can't tell you how deeply those words hurt me. The reports detailed a mass

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