The Golden Scar

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2026-08-18 09:02:13 -

The Golden Scar

The brass fastener was cold. It sat in the palm of Elias Thorne. He held it tight. The metal bit into the flesh. It did not bleed. The room was white. Not clean white. Sterile white. The walls hummed. A low, industrial thrum. The air tasted of ozone. And old pennies. Elias looked up. Director Halloway stood there. Tall. Thin. His suit was gray. Perfectly tailored. It swallowed the light....

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