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... o the ground. At first, it was only one or two drops of blood, like a faucet that wasn’t properly closed.

However, the moment the clock tolled in the distance, the flow of blood changed. It poured uncontrollably from the crack in the mirror.

One drop of blood swelled into a river, which split into six. The hallway was soon covered in blood. When the clock rang for the twelfth time, announcing the witching hour had come, we were standing in the middle of a carpet of blood.

...

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