All is quiet and dark in the room that resembles Paradise manor. The ghost king looks over his god faithfully, by side on the bed. The only light is the soft glow of the silver butterflies that emanates from his power, covering over him like a blanket.
Every now and then, he pokes the fireplace with the poker to keep warm to fight the bitter chill.
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Every now and then, he pokes the fireplace with the poker to keep warm to fight the bitter chill.