Mr. Irons had been a very bad man. A sick man. Sherry supposed she'd known it all along on some level, but seeing his secret torture chamber, like some mad doctor's workshop, made it a lot more real.
The room was just gross, bones and bottles and a smell even worse than the zombies. Perhaps that was why seeing the shape on the floor, the incomplete body shape beneath the bloodstained tarp, didn't bother her half as much as Claire seemed to think it would. Sherry stared at it, wondering what had happened exactly.
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Chapter 20
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