The Pale Tale
The bell above the door of the antique shop did not ring so much as it choked, a muffled, rusted shriek that cut through the heavy, dust-choked air of the afternoon, and it was this sound, this violent interruption of the silence that Dr. Elias Thorne had cultivated for three years, that forced him to look up from the ledger where he had been attempting, with a focus that bordered on the...
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