Sheila was finishing her laughter as Lucy brought an elbow down on the back of her head, expertly snapping the vertebra that connected Sheila’s head to her shoulders. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back. "I'm come to say good bye to you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place. Your life is like a funeral March.
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