The Pale Path

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2026-08-18 09:34:01 -

The Pale Path

You wake in the dark. The air is thick. It smells of damp stone and old blood. You are cold. So cold. Your bones ache with a deep, marrow-level chill. You are in the cellar. You are in the stone. You are in the dark. Look at your hands. They are red. Not with ink. With blood. It is drying. It is hard. It is a crust. You do not remember cutting them. You do not remember the knife. You only...

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