The Pale Path
The ink bled into the parchment with a slowness that felt less like a chemical reaction and more like a hemorrhage, a darkening of the soul that Dr. Elias Thorne had spent three decades attempting to arrest but could only ever witness with the detached, clinical horror of a man watching his own house burn down from the safety of a frozen lake. He stood before the grand, oak-paneled walls of the...
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