Suzanne

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It was made of shadows and feathers and insatiable hunger. The eye couldn’t quite focus on it. Man-shaped, he thought, but he wasn’t entirely sure. His mind kept trying to build impressions of something solid and slipping. It had wings/claws/a fog of despair. It walked on talons/feet/jagged cracks in reality. Its face was dominated by eyes or mouthfuls of teeth, they flickered but there was always too many of both. It wasn’t all the way here.
Dreadful
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