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Intruder Intruder Intruder Intruder Intruder (self shortscarystories) submitted 13 days ago by kismetvalley He is in the house. I can hear him moving around downstairs. I can't remember when I first heard him trying to get in, but it feels like I've been hiding in this closet for hours. I can't stop shaking. At least I managed to grab a knife from the kitchen while I had the chance. He's coming. Dear, he's climbing the stairs. This is it. I can't stop shaking. He's sure to find me here. I can see the headlines now: 'Man murdered in his own home', Maniac tortures and mutilates innocent victim', 'Bloodbath", 'Massacre, 'Slaughter. He's on the landing. Oh, he must be just outside the bedroom! Please give me the strength that I need to get through this. I just can't stop shaking; but I mustn't let out a breath or he'll surely hear me. Oh, this is it! I can see the papers: "Like scene from horror movie, "Butchered with kitchen-knife, 'Intruder lay in wait.' He's opening the door. He's here! This is it... But I still can't stop shaking... I'm far too excited. I've been waiting for him to get home for hours.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣟⣉⣭⣿⡍⠉⠀⠀⠸⠃⣤⣤⡤⢻⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣟⣯⡙⠂⠀⠀⠀⠘⠢⠭⠤⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀ ⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡄⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀⢔⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⡀⢀⠙⠟⡋⠀⠀⣂⣺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⢠⢿⠿⠿⠷⠆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏ ⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⡀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀
[◉¯] 🕳️
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful mürder. Now they cross the street to avoįd me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorrყ I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonelч. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hanged him, and left before he was even déád. I was the one that saw the LiFe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes haunt3d me for the rest of my life. I wanted nothin’ more than to reach out and save him, point the polıce to the mürderer, and see those awful men put jāiled for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't cøntrøl where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.
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(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡
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ε=🔪ε=ε=┏( ・Д・)┛
!ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!ִ ࣪𖤐ִ𓀏̤̮̤̮̤̮⋆♱✮♱⋆꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·▶• ılıılıılılılıılıılı. 0𓀐𓂸ඞ𒅒𒈔「 ✦ 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 ✦ 」ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ🫀ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ⩇⩇:⩇⩇
ඞyou are gඞy❥🔪🩸 🃁☠️🔪⚠ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ!🩸🗡ᡣ𐭩(ㅅ´ ˘ `)💔
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago TeslaToth ♡ Our daughter was born dying. Childhood leukaemia, they said. Just a bad draw of the cards. The white blood cells inside her, designed to protect her from harm, instead began attacking her, from the inside out. Her mother and I, also designed to protect her, could do nothing but watch as she slowly passed away. We named her Viv, short for Vivienne, French for alive. Defiant. But, ultimately, not prophetic of her fate. We buried Viv on her fifth birthday. After five years of constant heartbreak, our friends and family hoped we would feel some relief when she finally passed. Instead, the heartbreak continued, as omnipresent and suffocating as ever. We hosted seances, burned incense, used Ouija boards… Anything to try to keep her, or some small part of her, alive. It was all a waste of time, really, and we knew that. But we never gave up. Until one morning, getting out of the shower, I noticed something drawn in the steam on the bathroom mirror: ♡. I assumed my wife had left it for me, but when I entered the bedroom, I found her fast asleep. I kept the loving image to myself for the time being, assuming I’d dreamt it. But then I began to see it elsewhere. ♡. Drawn in the fresh-fallen snow, with no footprints anywhere nearby. ♡. Written in ballpoint pen on a new yellow legal pad I’d just unwrapped from the plastic. ♡. Arranged in string beans on top of the meatloaf in my microwave dinner. Viv had died before we’d properly taught her to write. But she knew what that symbol meant. Love. I took it to mean many things. That she was safe. That she was happy. That she was still with us. She still loving us. Finally, I gathered the courage to tell my wife. She didn’t take it well. It began with disbelief. Then anger. I showed her pictures I’d taken of the symbols, but of course, there was no proof of where they’d come from. I could have drawn them myself, she said. She became certain that I was toying with her emotions. I understood how she felt – she didn’t want to get her hopes up, and have them be crushed. It didn’t stop me from yelling back at her. It didn’t stop me from throwing the dinner plate at the wall. She stormed out of the house, and I didn’t stop her from going. It was then that I felt it. Shortness of breath. Numbness in my left arm. A shxrp paın in my chest. I collapsed to the floor, realising my mıstakes. ♡. Viv hadn't been saying she lòved me. Viv had been trying to warn me.
ᔆʰᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᵁˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁿᵉʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ! "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃ ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" "ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵉᵖʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ‧ "ᴳᵃʳʸ⸴ ʰᵉʸ; ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ'ˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵃⁿᶜⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ʳⁱˢᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ⁱᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʰⁱˡˡᵃˣ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᶻ'ˢ‧‧" "ᴬʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵘˢ! ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢʰᵉ 'ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ' ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰ‧‧
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🔪 🩸꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

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⠀⠀⢀⣦⣾⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠛⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡍⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⡳⠼⡼⣄⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡿⣏⢗⠮⣭⢓⡯⣕⡻⣆⠹⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣾⣿⢏⡳⢮⣙⠾⣡⠟⣜⡲⣝⢻⣧⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣯⡵⢫⡼⣹⡱⣛⣬⢓⣮⣗⡻⣧⠈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣥⠳⣥⢳⡍⡶⢫⡼⢿⡳⢻⣷⡄⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣝⠶⣍⡞⡵⢫⡜⢧⣏⣳⣚⣿⣄⠹⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡶⣹⡱⢳⢎⡳⣼⣿⣿⡟⣿⢻⣄⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣧⣛⡭⢞⡱⢮⣙⢧⣛⡬⢏⡿⣦⡘⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣯⡞⣭⣹⡮⢵⡚⣦⣽⡳⡜⣿⣷⣌⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣿⣗⢿⡙⡧⡝⣿⢿⡷⣝⣲⣿⣿⣦⡙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣷⣿⣷⣽⣎⣳⠹⣆⣳⢛⡿⣿⡿⣌⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⡻⡜⣬⡓⢾⡱⡹⢽⣦⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡖⣿⡧⢏⡝⣎⣿⣷⡌⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣡⢯⣹⡞⣥⡿⣻⣿⣆⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣦⢻⣿⢿⡱⣝⣿⣿⣦⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⡦⢏⣽⣿⡿⢿⣧⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣍⠶⣣⢛⣼⣿⡧⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡼⣱⢫⠾⣿⣱⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠉⠁ ⠴⠠⠰⠄⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠐⣾⣿⣿⡏⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡀⠀

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

▬ι═ﺤ
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𝒖𝒛𝒊⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
(⁠☞゚⁠ヮ゚⁠)⁠☞ ✨ 🔪 Stabby Stab Stab 🔪 ✨ <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>
THE LIGHTS When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions) I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep: I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory | came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howis. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one had killed, had been my protection.
The Man Who Lives Above You The man who lives above you is the quiet type. How lucky you are to live in an apartment underneath someone so courteous! It seems he never drops anything, seeing as how you never hear any loud thumps coming from the rooms above yours. He is even kind enough to keep the volume on his radio and TV too low to disrupt you. Come to think of it, had you not seen and spoken to him, you would think no one lived up there. Quite a big change from living below a batch of rowdy teens. He is terribly kind as well. Within the first week of you living there, he invites you up to dinner and offers his services as a plumber in case you have any leaky faucets. The maintenance crew at this complex is awfully incompetent. You can't have it all, I suppose. He didn't even get offended when you told him you were far too busy and didn't know him well enough to dine with him. He simply smiled, gave you his number, and let you know the offer stood as long as you lived below him. One night, you decide to take him up on his offer, seeing as how you're tired of the Hot Pockets your busy schedule allows. You call, uncertain about whether or not he is home due to the utter silence from above, and he answers and invites you to join him upstairs; he has made far too much chicken piccata to eat himself. You climb the stairs and enter his apartment. It's impeccable. You've already managed to spili some Coke Zero on your carpet. In his six years living there, he has left no stains. Dinner smells delightful. He already has a place set for you, almost as if he was expecting you sooner. Astounded by his kindness, you seat yourself and begin eating. Almost immediately, you feel a bit drowsy. Overworked, perhaps? He smiles and watches your muscles slowly fail you, the sauce dribbling out of the mouth you can't hold closed. You start to slide from your chair, you can almost feel the floor meeting your body, but no. He catches you. No sound is made. He carries you down the hall, ever so quietly. You're growing too unconscious to worry, so rest assured, no one will hear a thing; you won't even hit the floor.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."
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୧˚🥩🫀ᡣ𐭩₊˚
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠠⣶⣿⣶⣶⢶⣶⣴⣾⣷⣴⡞⣴⣶⡀⣴⣶⣶⣶⣲⣴⣶⣿⣶⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡉⢿⠀⠩⡉⡍⣍⠨⢩⠈⣍⢹⠏⠡⡍⣍⠀⠈⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠁⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣶⣾⣶⣶⣾⣿⡦⠀⣾⡶⣿⣺⣗⣾⡷⣿⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⢠⡾⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠈⠉⠉⠁⠉⠁⠀⠈⠁⠈⠁⠁⠈⠃⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⢿⡛⠾⣧⣄⣙⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I HATE DANDYS WORLD I EMILY BETTER⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣿⠈⣹⠿⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SHRIMPO SUCKS UWU IM BETTER I ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣶⣏⠄⠀⣽⠿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀DECAPITET HE HEAD IS WHAT ME HOLD⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡶⢶⣤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠉⠈⢿⣄⣰⠿⠧⠬⠿⢷⣤⣤⣀⡀⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣤⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⡀⠈⡉⠉⢛⡻⠳⢾⣿⣧⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⢙⣷⡌⠉⠓⠦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣆⠀⣶⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⣰⡏⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀me⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⡇⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⣠⡿⢌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⡀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⡋⢘⠀⠀⠀⣸⣶⣷⠶⢶⡄⠀⠀⠻⣿⣀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣿⡷⠀⠀⠉⠻⢶⣴⣟⠍⠥⠉⠙⠛⠛⢲⡿⢶⡿⣷⢬⣿⡀⠀⢀⣿⠙⠳⣦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⠛⢻⡋⢳⢀⣀⡀⣶⠿⠉⢙⣻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⢨⣷⣿⢠⣿⣇⠀⣀⣿⠀⠀⣀⣼⡿⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠟⠿⠿⢾⣏⡁⠀⠄⠘⠷⠾⢶⣶⣴⣿⠶⠿⠛⠉⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢹⠻⣷⣯⣸⡇⢿⠀⢼⡟⡷⢀⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡻⣦⣁⠀⠀⠀⠈⢯⡀⠀⠀⠈⠘⢷⣴⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⣾⡆⠀⠉⠉⠀⠸⣿⡿⢁⣿⣾⡃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⡟⠛⢶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣦⡄⠀⠀⠉⠳⢤⡀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣭⣟⣳⣾⡿⠁⠀⣀⡤⠚⠀⠼⣦⡾⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⢿⠋⠉⠀⢀⣾⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀shrimp head⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⢷⣾⣿⣿⡿⣧⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣶⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⠤⢴⣤⠯⠭⣽⡟⠒⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣭⠥⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠈⠂⠀⠀⢸⡿⢻⠛⢻⣶⡶⢶⡿⠿⠶⢦⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⣿⠟⠛⠁⠙⢷⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠇⠀⡀⠀⣤⡾⣧⣼⡆⠈⠉⠁⠈⣷⣤⡀⠈⠉⠛⠳⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣧⡀⠄⠀⢽⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⣄⠂⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⡟⠀⢾⣿⡾⡏⠑⣸⣿⣁⣇⠀⠀⠘⠻⣷⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⡤⠤⠜⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣤⣴⠿⠄⠀⠈⢿⡿⣶⣦⠤⢤⣄⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠾⠉⠀⠀⣸⣿⢷⣾⠻⠻⠿⣿⢻⣤⣀⡀⠀⣹⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀⠈⠙⠳⠶⠶⠦⣶⣤⣤⣤⢀⠀⣾⡏⠛⢶⣤⡘⠀⢘⣷⡈⠙⢶⣄⣀⣀⣈⣤⣴⠾⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢻⣆⡘⠨⣾⣦⣄⡉⠉⠻⠿⢿⣉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣌⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠻⠖⢿⡇⠀⠀⠉⠛⢷⡾⠯⡗⠀⣼⣏⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡶⡿⠘⠿⢿⣤⣴⠷⠍⠛⠓⢶⣄⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣽⡿⢶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢇⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣶⣤⣤⣤⡶⡶⠶⠶⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣿⠿⠿⠶⠶⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠰⢠⢈⣻⣇⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣀⣀⣀⣤⡾⠋⢐⣂⣀⣀⣿⣧⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡀⣶⡀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡆⠀⢸⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⣵⣶⣿⣿⣩⣿⣋⡀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⢨⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⣿⣷⣦⡈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣀⣰⣿⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠲⠲⣶⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⡛⠛⠋⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣟⠈⢳⡼⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠈⠙⢻⠷⢾⣃⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠀⠀⠿⣿⣀⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠸⣧⠿⠿⣷⠾⠷⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⡶⠿⠀⠀⣿⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⣿⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⣰⡟⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣦⣤⣼⠇⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ूाीूूाीूूाीूඞ🔪ඞඞ🔪ඞඞ🔪ඞ╾━╤デ╦︻╾━╤デ╦︻╾━╤デ╦︻╾━╤デ╦︻( -_•)╦̵̵̿╤─( -_•)╦̵̵̿╤─( -_•)╦̵̵̿╤─( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) sussy?( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°) sussy?
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⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣫⣿⢦⡀⢀⣤⣾⣹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣞⣱⣿⠤⡀⢀⣤⣾⡹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢯⣶⣤⣀⢀⡴⣾⢮⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢯⣶⡤⡀⢀⡴⣿⣬⢦⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣺⣥⣴⣿⣿⣷⣾⠗⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢭⢑⠪⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣻⣥⣾⢿⣿⣷⣿⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣶⣄⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣷⣾⣿⣏⣶⣬⣗⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⠹⡄⢊⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣷⣾⣷⡟⣶⡬⣗⠋⠀ ⠂⠀⠀⢠⠶⢋⡹⣭⡝⢿⣉⡹⣆⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣞⠞⢢⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡔⢫⠹⣍⡞⢽⡉⣭⢧⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣻⣯⣽⣏⣻⣿⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡶⢏⣉⣿⠯⣝⡭⢙⢲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠓⣮⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⢏⣉⣿⠳⡹⣇⠙⡖⡄ ⠄⠀⠀⢸⣣⡧⠏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠲⢽⣸⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣩⡶⠋⠁⠀⠀⠉⠲⢏⣸⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡵⢋⣄⣿⡿⣷⠚⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣻⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠙⠪⣔⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣏⣹⠖⠉⠀⠀⠀⠙⢺⣤⡟ ⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣭⠐⡖⠋⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀ ⠅⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣃⡚⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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