The Pale Tale
The fog did not merely settle over the town of Oakhaven; it invaded it, a viscous, grey tide that swallowed the cobblestones and the spires of the old chapel, reducing the world to a suffocating sphere of damp wool and silence, and in the center of this wet, breathing void, I stood with the taste of iron in my mouth, holding the shattered pieces of a mirror that I was absolutely certain, with a...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen