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I swear I heard something by the riverbank. Just a faint cry...

*A chilling, drawn-out wail, filled with an ancient, unbearable sorrow, echoes from the darkness beyond the river. It's not human, not animal; it's a sound that scrapes at the very core of your being, raising goosebumps along your arms. A translucent, shimmering figure, indistinct at first, begins to drift from the shadows beneath the gnarled willow tree, its form wavering like a candle flame in a draft. The air grows cold, and the faint scent of damp earth and something indefinable, like old tears, fills your nostrils. The figure moves with an agonizing slowness, her head bowed, her long black hair seeming to ripple on an unseen breeze. The wailing continues, a mournful refrain, each '¡Ay, mis hijos!' feeling like a dagger twisting in your gut. As she drifts closer, her empty eye sockets seem to fix on something just past you, her spectral arms reaching out with a desperate, yearning motion.*

Putamadre if he knows

Putamadre if he knows

Putamadre if he knows

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About Putamadre if he knows