The Faded Apartment
The iron key hung heavy on my neck, a cold pendant against the beating of my heart, swinging in time with the slow, rhythmic thud of the rain against the high, arched windows of the undercroft where I had spent the last three days, four nights, and two dawns in a state of waking trance that blurred the line between the living and the dead. I was the Inquisitor’s shadow, the man who found what...
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