His voice returned, whispering. "It won't hurt. They control time. But you can't escape. There's only one way out."
The drums grew louder. I looked around the hut, shivering. Cannibals, he'd said.
How could being eaten not hurt? Where had he gone?
I tried to stand, determined to get out. I collapsed to the dirt floor, staring in disbelief at my leg, gone and healed from the knee down. Drums. The smell of meat sizzling. My mouth watered. Panic stirred, and I crawled to beat on a wall, howling for help.
My arm vanished at the shoulder.
It won't hurt.
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alt="It Won't Hurt by Kimberly Rei"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="88 Miles Per Hour aka The 5 Ps of Time Travel by Timmy le Frog"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Void Between Two Heartbeats by M. Tensor"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Logistics of the Damned by Diana Parrilla"
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>