The Faded Portrait

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 16:21:46 -

I woke with blood on my hands. The air tasted of iron and ash. I stood in the center of a circular room. Stone walls. High ceiling. No windows. A single chandelier hung above me, swaying slowly. It made no sound. I looked down. My uniform was torn. The fabric was black. Not dark blue. Black. Like burnt sugar. I tried to move my fingers. They trembled. "Where am I?" I asked. My voice echoed. It...

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