Janice

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It was a woman. Charlie’s eyes went first to her clothing. It was ripped up, just like the dead man Clay Burke had shown her. She leaned over to check the woman’s neck, though she knew what she would find. There were deep, ugly gouges from the spring locks of an animatronic suit. But before she could examine them closely, Charlie stopped, horrified. She looks just like me.
The Twisted Ones
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