The Pale Shadows
You sit in the dark. The room smells of damp wool and old wax. You are the Keeper of the House. The house is old. It breathes. It waits. You hold the mirror. It is heavy. The glass is cold. Your hands shake. Not from fear. From the weight. The weight of the reflection. The mirror is your body. Or so you have always believed. You are the vessel. The mirror is the soul. This is the law of the...
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