The old sentinel is gone. Herded to where they will retire...where they will be forgotten. A relic, a cruel reminder that time spares no one, that on its merciless onslaught, we will all fall victim to decay, to being forgotten.
i hear children screaming, panting, and i smell fear in the air! the children of the corn are coming! hehehehe. pet semetery pala...d children of the corn.
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