1 Work by Daemonium_Meum
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His iron grip left no escape—no chance to flee, not even an inch of space. Fingers clad in thin gloves dug into Dipper’s sides so fiercely he could almost hear his ribs creak with every breath. Hot breath scorched the crown of his head—too hot for a human, even one burning with fever. Yet the boy didn’t resist. His heart hammered wildly, but not just from fear. Beneath the primal terror pulsed something else: a twisted reverence.