The Golden Downtown
The rain hammered against the reinforced glass of the precinct’s central atrium, a relentless, rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of Sergeant Elias Thorne’s bones. He stood in the center of the polished marble floor, his chest heaving under the weight of his uniform, the fabric damp and clinging to his sweat-soaked skin. Around him, the air was thick with the scent of wet...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen