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Eyes watch me in my sleep... they haunt my

  • Eyes watch me in my sleep... they haunt my dreams... they won't go away.

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  • In every picture, the eyes would move with me as I walked past. They would creep toward me as if knowing everything about me. They knew me better than I did at this point.

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  • Once I passed the row of portraits, I could hear whispering, and realized they were gossiping about me. The nerve! I grabbed a mace from the wall and began smashing the paintings

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  • They screamed in horror and pain. The portraits couldn't believe what was happening to them. They always got away with gossip. This mad man was the worst guest they've ever hosted.

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  • He reminded them of that escaped prisoner of Azkaban, Sirius Black, who had slashed the Fat Lady's portrait. It had been a night of terror that they didn't want to relive. They had

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  • half a bag of cocaine and a bottle of port. The mescaline was wearing off and they were in need of uppers. Could these hallucinations be from the mushrooms or were they the caused

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  • by something else, something… sinister? The only way to find out was to go deeper into the hallucinations, to befriend them, to earn their trust, to become like them. I focused my

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  • flashlight onto the nearest hallucinatory mongrel and said, "Hi! I'm Frank. Want to get some pizza?" The apparition extended a ghostly hand and said "Why thank you, I'd be honored.

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  • Walking "hand-in-hand" they discussed what kind of toppings they each liked, and the mongrel said, "I prefer grilled pineapple on mine? How about you?" Frank responded, "mushrooms"

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  • then he poured his wine on the mongrel's head. He could never be with someone who listed pineapple as his favorite topping. Frank let go of the mongrel's paw and walked away.

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