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Dig Me No Grave
A shuddery tale of dark horror and evil things, and the uncanny funeral rites
over the corpse of old John Grimlan
The thunder of my old-fashioned door-knocker, reverberating eerily through the house, roused me from a restless and nightmare-haunted sleep. I looked out the window. In the last light of the sinking moon, the white face of my friend John Conrad looked up at me.
"May I come up, Kirowan?" His voice was shaky and strained.
"Certainly!" I sprang out of bed and pulled on a bath-robe as I heard him
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