The Graveyard's Curse
The fog rolled across the Yorkshire moors like a shroud, thick and suffocating, as Eleanor Ashworth stood before the iron gates of Blackwood Manor. The estate had been in her family for three centuries, and in three centuries, it had never ceased to consume those who owned it. She pushed through the gates. They groaned with a sound like a dying man's last breath. The manor loomed before her,...
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