The voice still echoes in your head. "Remember--if the bunny is not dead by midnight, the countryside will be ruled by evil."
You shiver as you think of the people dead in the street with bite marks on their neck. The cattle dead by the hundreds. The stories of a rampaging vampire bunny. A chill runs up your spine.
And lastly, you remember the strangeness of the graveyard the last time you saw it. The misty fog surrounding it. And now you're in the graveyard, alone, armed only with your apple and your trusty quill pen.
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