The Soul Eater
The rain in Los Angeles didn't fall; it descended like a heavy, grey curtain, blurring the line between the neon lights and the oil-slicked streets. Detective Miles sat in his office, the air thick with the smell of cheap bourbon and stale cigarettes. He stared at the ceiling fan, which spun with a rhythmic, clicking sound that felt like a countdown. Miles had a secret. He could see the "Last...
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