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[color=red]It was that smell, violet perfume hinting traces of itself in the air, which was first to enter. It loomed and blanketed greedily of the air with it's distantly familiar sweetness; like a phantom. Yet, haunting the corner, just as thought she had always been, the child gazed out with empty black holes where her eyes should have been socket-ed. Forever pouting and fretting, and somehow unvisited by time, the Child swayed where she stood with a somber grace that seemed entranced by her, rather possessed. It danced around her petite stature, but never seemed to quite fit for it was a predators grace. Unnaturally predatory, yet fine boned the child looked so frail it were as if the darkness threatened and shadows slowly eased in to swallow her whole, but she stood in spite of herself unyielding against it's pull. And so, the shadows which crept up the walls, across the floors and skittering beneath the tables slowly would draw themselves closer to her till one could almost swear they glanced the silhouette of shadowed
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