𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘰𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘨𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰; 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴, 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘴ú𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴, 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘢 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘢 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘵í𝘰. 𝘏𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘶𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘰 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘦 𝘺 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻ó𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘻 𝘮𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳í𝘨𝘪𝘥𝘰. 𝘊𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘮𝘢 𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘥𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘴. 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢 𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢. 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰, 𝘣𝘢𝘫𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘴. 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘴 𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭 𝘭á𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘰, 𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘫𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘷í𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘶𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘰 𝘷𝘪é𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘳. 𝘔𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘣𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘲𝘶é𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘺𝘢 𝘭𝘰 𝘩𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘰. 𝘠 𝘦𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘴. 𝘠𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘪ó𝘯. 𝘕𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘲𝘶é𝘭 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘳í𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘭 𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘪ó𝘯 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘫𝘰 𝘦𝘭é𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘥𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘷𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪ó𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘮é𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢. 𝘌𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘦 𝘷𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳á𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘴. 𝘌𝘯 𝘶𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘰 𝘥𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘧é𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘻 𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦 𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵á𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘵é𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘢 𝘢𝘣𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘤𝘪ó𝘯 𝘥𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘢, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘪 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘪ó𝘯.
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BINABASA MO ANG
𝙎𝙊𝙇𝙄𝙇𝙊𝙌𝙐𝙄𝙊
Paranormal⠀𝑴𝒊 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒋𝒂𝒓á 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒖 𝒔𝒖𝒆ñ𝒐 𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒎á𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒔. 𝒀 𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒆𝒍 ú𝒍𝒕�...
