The Porcelain Silence of Cliffhaven
Cliffhaven did not stand upon the Irish coast; it clung to it, a jagged tooth of granite and grey stone biting into the Atlantic mist. The house was a monument to a lineage of decay, where the salt spray had eaten the mortar from the walls and the wind howled through the corridors like a choir of the damned. Elspeth had come to this desolate edge of the world as a sacrifice to silence. Born to...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews