The Wraith of Willow Creek
The heather was dying. That was the first thing Edmund Ashworth noticed when he arrived in Willow Creek, standing on the platform of a station that had not seen a passenger train in three years. The moors stretched in every direction, a vast expanse of purple and brown and the sickly yellow of vegetation that had forgotten how to grow. The heather, which should have been in full bloom in...
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