The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 15:25:13 -

The Pale Exile

The door locked behind me with a sound like a bone breaking. I was nine. The cold bit my face. I stood in the corridor. It was long. It was gray. The walls were peeling. I looked for my mother. She was not there. The air smelled of coal and old paper. I walked. My shoes squeaked. The Institution was a beast. It ate children. It spit them out. I was a piece of meat. I was a number. Number 402. I...

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