The Golden Master
The bell of St. Jude’s tolled not for the hour, but for the rupture, a deep, resonant thrum that shook the dust from the rafters and sent the candles in the nave flickering into violent, erratic dance, a sound that was less a warning and more a physical blow to the chest, a vibration that traveled through the stone floor and into the bones of the few souls who remained in the shadowed pews, a...
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