WHISPERS FROM THE GRAVEYARD

Whispers from the Graveyard

A chill wind whistled through the ancient oaks that bordered the graveyard. The pale moonlight bathed the crumbling headstones in an eerie shimmer. Footsteps echoed softly on the damp earth, sending tremors down my nerves. I pressed closer to the weathered inscription on a nearby grave. Might it be true? The copyright seemed to dance before my gaze

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