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The first blow resonated through the house, a dull thud that seemed to echo his own anxious heartbeat. Plaster dust exploded outwards, coating everything in a fine, white film. He coughed, pulling the dust mask tighter, his eyes stinging not just from the debris but from the pungent, concentrated burst of the foul odor that now assaulted his senses with unprecedented intensity. The smell was no longer a pervasive cloud; it was a physical blow, localized, raw, and undeniably horrifying. He widened the initial hole, carefully prying away larger sections of drywall, revealing the dark, hollow cavity within. A flashlight beam cut through the gloom, dancing across insulation, wires, and wooden studs. For a moment, a fleeting, hopeful second, there appeared to be nothing overtly alarming. Just the skeletal structure of a house. But the smell! It was overwhelming now, a putrid, sickening wave that made him gag, confirming beyond doubt that the source was definitively inside this very wall. His stomach churned violently, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. Whatever was in there, it was significant, it was rotten, and it was waiting to be fully exposed, promising a grim discovery that no homeowner could ever prepare for. The true horror was inching closer, demanding to be seen.
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