Death in a Gothic Cathedral

I was lying in a large bed next to a middle-aged man that I didn’t recognize.  We were in a […] room that was old and [g]othic […] – the ceiling high and painstakingly chiseled to fine detail.  It was like we were in the center of a […] medieval cathedral.  I [lay], shrouded in shadow.  Then I turned […] away from the man, and saw a dead, young woman lying […] next to me.  Her eyes were open and staring blankly […] while blood spilled from the corner of her mouth onto the pillow.  Her neck was […] bent and broken, a deep gash slicing across […] it, oozing blood […].  […]  I got halfway on top of her, grabbing her […] neck […], and proceeded to strangulate [her].  […]  I stopped – suddenly stunned that I had murdered someone.

Then I woke up […].  The clock read 5:30am.  […] as I drifted back asleep, I listened to my breath hissing […].  Gradually, my breathing began to sound like gasping and each time I gasped, I heard a creaking […] coming from the floor beside my bed – […] as if someone was shifting […].  And then I realized that I wasn’t alone – there was an old woman sitting in a rocking chair […] and the steady creaking […] came from her chair […].  She was dead and transparent […].  She saw that I was afraid of her and a slow smile spread across her […] wasted face, revealing […] withered and yellow teeth. […]

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