The Golden Scar
"You have it." The voice was thin. It came from the shadows of the archive. Ellis did not turn. He held the ledger. The book was heavy. Its spine cracked. A smell of dust rose. It smelled of old blood. "Show me," the voice said. Ellis opened the book. He turned the page. He looked at the ink. The ink was black. It was dry. It had dried long ago. "Where?" "Look closer, Ellis." He leaned in. His...
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