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#Horror Stories
English
Midnight Harvest on the Salt Flats
For generations, the villagers of Oakhaven warned outsiders never to walk the western salt flats after the last bell of midnight chimed. Ignoring the local superstitions, Elena ventured out under the pale moonlight to photograph the glowing crystal formations. At precisely midnight, the crunching of heavy boots echoed across the barren landscape, though no one was visible within the vast white expanse. She turned around to retrace her steps and froze in absolute terror. Her footprints in the salt were no longer human; they were lengthening into jagged, clawed impressions that marched directly toward where she stood, tracking her every movement with supernatural precision.
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