The Faded Apartment
The banquet hall was not a place for the living, yet it thrummed with a vitality that felt more aggressive than the silence of a tomb. You stood at the center of the circular table, the wood polished to a mirror sheen that reflected your own pale face back at you, distorted and fragmented. The air smelled of roasted meats and stale wine, a cloying mixture that hung in the stagnant atmosphere...
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