The Pale Tale
The rain hits the tin roof like a handful of gravel. You are running. Your boots slap the muddy path. Mud splatters your trousers. You do not care. You care about the house. The house is a beast of brick and slate. It stands against the grey sky. It stands against you. Your friend, Silas, is ahead. He runs faster. His coat is tattered. His face is pale. He looks back. His eyes are wide. He...
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