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<p>When the sun finally rose, he methodically availed himself of the dead's belongings, precisely as he always did, but for the first time, he <strong>could not bring himself to look</strong> directly at the body. Usually, he felt absolutely no sting of remorse or burning shame—he had successfully convinced himself that he was entirely immune to such weak human frailties—but now, a strange, heavy <strong>guilt sat like a cold stone deep in his gut</strong>. He had obscenely gorged himself in a terrifying, unholy communion that had lasted throughout the entire night, returning over and over to tear more flesh from the cooling corpse and fully sate his insatiable hunger. He had eaten until he was <strong>bloated, profoundly sickened, and deeply ashamed</strong>.</p><br><p><strong>Patreon</strong>: <a href="https://www.patreon.com/theserialkillerpodcast" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank"><strong>https://www.patreon.com/theserialkillerpodcast</strong></a></...