Chapter9
Logan never imagined Deacon was on my side.
Inside this custom-made iron coffin, the stench of formalin devoured his remaining sanity.
In the pitch black, he heard only his ragged breathing and the scrape of his mutilated hand—missing three fingers—clawing at the inner lid.
The metallic scent of ...
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Chapters
1. Chapter1
2. Chapter2
3. Chapter3
4. Chapter4
5. Chapter5
6. Chapter6
7. Chapter7
8. Chapter8
9. Chapter9
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