The Distant Summer
The bell rings. Not a church bell. Not a school bell. It is a hollow, metallic scream that tears through the silence of the bunker. You are standing. You have always been standing in this room. The air is thick with dust and the metallic taste of old blood. Your uniform is torn. The fabric, once a crisp blue, is now a ragged thing, stained with mud and something darker. It clings to your skin...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme