Tell me, mortal... Are you fulfilled? What grand purpose were you striving for? What high and lofty goal was of such importance that you cast yourself into a fiery sacrifice of twisted metal, shattered glass, and burning gasoline? The terrifying figure's lips curl up into a sneer that you feel more than see. Oh, that's right... Chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice cream... The figure tilts its head, cold eyes boring into your very soul it seems. How poetic!
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