The Golden Ritual

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2026-08-19 06:35:23 -

The Golden Ritual

The amber vial sat upon the mahogany desk, catching the pale, winter light that filtered through the frosted glass of the office window, and I watched the sediment settle within its curved belly with a devotion that bordered on the pathological, a quiet, obsessive love for a thing that had once been the center of my entire, wretched existence. I was James Whitmore, or at least I had been,...

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