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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
She felt the claws of death and the pain she felt was terrible, it was the pain of souls who left without the light and now wandered in a dark labyrinth awaiting resurrection.
There was no one in those halls, only the dead, only the poignant emptiness of death, the intrepid emptiness that pierced her kidneys and threatened her soul, however she felt that the Mausoleum was filled with demons or Shedim as already mentioned.
A sensitive cannot go to the cemetery, because like a sponge he absorbs all the pain and suffering, attracting the Dibbuks that feed on the plasma of souls, animated by magic and operated by Shedim.
Imei continued walking through the corridors and actually wanted to get away from that place of pain, but she couldn't leave the place without knowing what she was doing there, what her mission was, why she had been attracted to that intercourse of pain and emptiness.
She let herself be guided by her conscious mind and suddenly she saw a sinister corridor where there was a gust of cold wind and heard the murmurs of trapped and obsessive souls.
Imei noticed that that corridor had burnt out lamps unlike the others that were lit.
She dove down the dark corridor and stopped in front of a grave with fresh flowers, perhaps a recent burial. She felt that she had to open that drawer, I mentioned tomb, but in fact it was a funerary drawer, a cold stone urn to receive the coffin of the loved one.
Imei looked for an iron bar and started to break open the drawer. When she opened it she nearly fainted, for the rotten smell was profound, the corpse was still decomposing, it hadn't turned into bones. She struggled to pull out the mahogany casket, finished with ebony, all expensive wood showing that the corpse came from a wealthy family. She saw the plaque of the deceased, Lavinia Dantas, before opening the coffin.
With the coffin open the smell was unbearable, but Imei dominated her instincts picking up some letters that she saw lying on the corpse's back.
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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
She felt the claws of death and the pain she felt was terrible, it was the pain of souls who left without the light and now wandered in a dark labyrinth awaiting resurrection.
There was no one in those halls, only the dead, only the poignant emptiness of death, the intrepid emptiness that pierced her kidneys and threatened her soul, however she felt that the Mausoleum was filled with demons or Shedim as already mentioned.
A sensitive cannot go to the cemetery, because like a sponge he absorbs all the pain and suffering, attracting the Dibbuks that feed on the plasma of souls, animated by magic and operated by Shedim.
Imei continued walking through the corridors and actually wanted to get away from that place of pain, but she couldn't leave the place without knowing what she was doing there, what her mission was, why she had been attracted to that intercourse of pain and emptiness.
She let herself be guided by her conscious mind and suddenly she saw a sinister corridor where there was a gust of cold wind and heard the murmurs of trapped and obsessive souls.
Imei noticed that that corridor had burnt out lamps unlike the others that were lit.
She dove down the dark corridor and stopped in front of a grave with fresh flowers, perhaps a recent burial. She felt that she had to open that drawer, I mentioned tomb, but in fact it was a funerary drawer, a cold stone urn to receive the coffin of the loved one.
Imei looked for an iron bar and started to break open the drawer. When she opened it she nearly fainted, for the rotten smell was profound, the corpse was still decomposing, it hadn't turned into bones. She struggled to pull out the mahogany casket, finished with ebony, all expensive wood showing that the corpse came from a wealthy family. She saw the plaque of the deceased, Lavinia Dantas, before opening the coffin.
With the coffin open the smell was unbearable, but Imei dominated her instincts picking up some letters that she saw lying on the corpse's back.