The Rain of Eternal Return
The rain in Blackwood Manor did not fall; it besieged. It had been raining for a hundred years, or perhaps for a single afternoon that refused to end. The manor sat atop a jagged cliff in the English countryside, a gothic monstroses of grey stone and weeping ivy, locked in a temporal stasis that defied every law of nature. Elias was the prisoner of the rain. He lived in a loop—a precise,...
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