I pulled the knife out of my stomach. I was the last one alive. My twin -- the one they said I absorbed in the womb -- came out to play. I layed on my side, clutching at the gaping wound. He devoured the killer's head with ease, then he went to work on the other corpses. He was very hungry and made short work of everybody: the camp owner and all my fellow counselors. Then, he went back inside me. The wound closed up instantly, like it always does.

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