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What makes a monster.

‘The gravity of the earth is pulling me down.’, Swamp Thing.

‘The best place to lay eggs?’ The slimy creature thinks as it watches you skipping rocks. ‘A host to houses my eggs, something warm and tasty.’ Swamp thing thinks as it silently slips into the cold dry air. Looking down at reflections in still eye. She smiles at you after your breath is gone, ‘What a happy nest this will make. I’m such a good mom.’ She smiles as you’re dragged under.

Kinda grossing myself out with this one.

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