My skin prickles, hair on my arm
Quite peculiar, actually, someone
or something, is watching me.
I recalculate my senses, dusting off
pre-conceived notions of paranoia.
Across the room, a dull thud garners
my attention. Searching, I discover a
doorstop has simply tipped over, quite
impossible, I conjecture!
I pick it up and feel a distinct burning!
it's hot to the touch!
Dropping the fiery doorstop, I hear an
otherwordly chuckle emanate from
somewhere above me, reloading my
sense of apprehension.
Not to be ill-prepared, I crouch in a
defensive position, peering this way and
that, ready to defend who knows what.
I turn to evacuate the premises,
and come face to face with a grinning
Punching my way through the
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