The Pale Tale

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 02:47:41 -

The Pale Tale

The iron gate groans. It sounds like a dying man clearing his throat. You stand before it. Your hands shake. You press them against the cold metal. The rust flakes off. It stains your skin. Red. Like blood. But it is just rust. You are a convict. Number 409. You have been here for ten years. The years are short. The seconds are long. You wait for the warden. His name is Silas. He is a man of...

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