The front door creaked open — not because of us, for once.
Boots stepped through the dust like they had better places to be. Long coat, weird ring, thermos in hand. He looked around the crumbling room like he was appraising drywall, not stepping into a decades-abandoned, definitely-haunted house.
“Yup,” he muttered. “Smells like unresolved trauma and raccoons.”
He took another sip from the thermos. Was that… hazelnut?
Then, casually, he looked straight at the staircase — right where we were — and said,
“Don’t mind me. I’m just here to poke around and ruin your afterlife.”
He grinned. We had a feeling things were about to get very annoying.
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5🥀✰Zhenya ✰🥀
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Pinned
27/05/2025
🖤🩷L0$3₹🩷🖤
28/05/2025
🥀✰Zhenya ✰🥀
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28/05/2025
Meso
27/05/2025
🥀✰Zhenya ✰🥀
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28/05/2025