The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. This door was crested with spikes, and guarded on the right by a bristling semicircle of spikes. Her aunt was a long time before she answered. She screamed as she saw that their throats had been ripped out and their dead eyes bulged with horror as their heads lolled from mere strings of sinew and flesh. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet.
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