The Pale Echo
The bell above the door did not ring, for the door was locked and the latch was rusted shut with the stubbornness of iron that has forgotten the touch of human hands, and yet I heard it, a low, mournful toll that seemed to vibrate not in the air but in the marrow of my bones, a sound so ancient and so familiar that it bypassed my ears entirely and struck directly at the center of my being where...
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