The Wistful Incense
The air in the basement laboratory of St. Jude’s Institute for Industrial Hygiene tasted of copper and stale ozone. You held the vial. It was empty. Or it seemed to be. Inside, a single drop of liquid hovered, suspended in a magnetic field that hummed at a frequency only you could hear. You were the only one who could hear it. You were the only one who saw the shadow stretching from the vial,...
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