The Pale Circus
The incinerator in the basement of St. Jude’s Home for the Mentally Infirm did not roar, as one might expect from such a device of ultimate finality, but rather hummed with a low, persistent, and deeply unsettling vibration that seemed to resonate in the marrow of the bones of anyone who stood too close to its iron maw, a sound that was less mechanical and more biological, like the purring of a...
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