The Wistful Witness

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 02:12:04 -

The fog rolled in from the harbor. Thick. Wet. It tasted of brine and diesel. Silas woke in the alley behind the fish market. His skin itched. Not just itched. It burned. He looked at his hands. They were human. Pale. Veined. But the nails. The nails were wrong. Black. Curved. Like hooks. He shook them off. They fell away. Clattered on the wet cobblestones. Tiny black shards. Gone. Silas stood...

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