The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:02:00 -

The Pale Mist

The tower stood against the grey sky like a broken tooth. I held the iron key in my palm. It was cold. It had always been cold. I wrapped my fingers around the metal, feeling the bite of it. I was the Keeper. That was my title. That was my cage. The castle of Blackwood was not a home. It was a machine. And I was its eye. Lord Ashworth sat in the high chair. He did not look at me. He looked at...

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