Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. “How will you live?” she appealed. He had been thrilled at her attitude about the subject, which was simply not to turn others into vampires. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him.
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