The Still (III)
by James Michael Rice
I was only seventeen when I first gazed upon the dazzling light of truth that amazed my soul and swallowed my thoughts:
There are such things as monsters.
There are such things as demons.
There is a place where monsters and demons and the undead still live, still love, still hunger for life eternal, indulging in untold pleasures beyond all imagination. It is a place that remains hidden from the eyes of man, a world somehow wrapped within our own, like a pearl wrapped and preserved within an oyster.
A place where time itself stands still.
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