The Wistful Saga
The bell tolls. It is not a sound. It is a weight. It presses against your chest. The stone is cold. The air is thick. You smell rot. You smell sweat. You smell fear. It is the smell of the pit. You are here. You are Thomas. You are the warden. You are the wall. You are the lock. You are the key. You are the hand that turns. You are the mouth that speaks. You are the eye that sees. You are the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews