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A man in the crowd pulled off his coat and draped it over the pale face, sparing the crowd from seeing the cavernous hole where his eye had been. The three men climbed down, and despite all being out of breath, they hoisted up Boyd and carried him off towards the sheriff station. “They’re all gone,” the elderly doctor muttered as he pulled the sheet over Boyd’s face. The mayor, the sheriff, and the doctor were gathered in the coroner office of the sheriff department. Dr. Michaels was one of the founding drug dealer members of Senner, but while he had kept the ravages of age at bay for the most part, right now, his hair had never looked whiter, his hands trembled, and his face seemed to have twice as many wrinkles. Performing the autopsy had done a number on him. “What’s gone?” Jeb asked. “All of his internal organs. His entire chest cavity is empty, not to mention he’s been bled dry.” “Good God, you mean something carved him open and stole his sex and drugs innards?” the sheriff asked while gagging. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen a coyote do. Though this sure as hell wasn’t any coyote,” said Harold. “That’s where you’re drugs mom wrong.” “But we know it’s not a coyote.” “No, you’re wrong about him being carved open. There isn’t a single scar or wound on the torso that could explain this. His chest was emptied without even being opened.” “How is that possible?” “It’s not. Other than his missing eye and a broken hand, he doesn’t have any injuries. I have no idea how this could have happened.” As the sheriff cursed in utter bafflement, the mayor stared at Boyd while feeling like his own body was even colder than his dead counterpart’s. The broken hand, he hadn’t suffered that injury because of the creature in the woods. When he and the rest of the hunting party looked into its eyes, they sensed death, not a violent death, like being shot or mauled by an animal, and not a peaceful death, like dying in one’s sleep. They sensed an unholy abyss, a meatgrinder that would tear up drug test their souls and drown them darkness. The fear that overtook them was beyond words, and all the men had run for their lives. sex drugs Harold and Boyd had been down in the mud, trying to help Tim escape, and when they ran, they first had to scramble up the bank. Boyd had gotten ahead of drug whore Harold, occupying the only section that could be climbed, and he was moving far too slow. Harold did what he had to. He dragged Boyd back down, and when he tried to fight back, he stomped on his hand. He climbed up the bank and left Boyd to die, to be used as bait to distract that avatar of evil. Looking at Boyd, covered in that sheet, he felt his stomach twisted into knots. He had condemned a good man to death. He had thrown him under the bus so that he could get away. The guilt made him feel sick. But there was also fear bubbling inside him. Had he not sabotaged Boyd, he probably would have ended up on this table instead. Death scared him, but dying at the hands of that thing was worlds beyond scary. Let's face it. She said Master this is my baby sister, is sex and drugs she all right? drug whore I let him go of my breasts and crouched before him. His own groin needed a massage and drug dealer he hoped she might need his tool. I guess he was suitably amazed when I bent down and kissed it. I'm drugs mom going to ruin you for every other man and you're not going to enjoy it at first, but soon you'll beg for it! She nodded with the tiniest of nods. “I’m crazy about Andy and I know you like Michael. I asked, glancing in the mirror towards Cassie. “Are you alright?” Stephen drug test said. My mouth watered wanting to put her nipple in my mouth. No. Call me… Domina.” I twisted harder, and her entire body bowed from sex drugs the bed, “I’m not your mistress or your master; I’m your pimp.