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[Scrooge stood in the middle of a mist-covered, dark ground, with the vague impression of old and ruined stone walls nearby but still out of his perception. Something- something didn't feel right.
Oh, that it was a dream, he could already tell. But there was a sense of forboding that was crawling up his spine, and it only got worse the deeper into the broken, shadowed land he went. He almost wanted to cry out and have whatever threat awaited him to come FACE HIM, but had the strange impression his voice would just get swallowed up in the fog. So he continued picking his way through, searching in mute silence for whatever was out there.]
Oh, that it was a dream, he could already tell. But there was a sense of forboding that was crawling up his spine, and it only got worse the deeper into the broken, shadowed land he went. He almost wanted to cry out and have whatever threat awaited him to come FACE HIM, but had the strange impression his voice would just get swallowed up in the fog. So he continued picking his way through, searching in mute silence for whatever was out there.]