The Pale Door
The rain did not fall so much as it was expelled from the sky, a violent, horizontal scouring that turned the streets of Oakhaven into churning rivers of brown sludge. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the municipal storm drain, his boots sinking into the muck, his uniform a heavy, sodden thing that clung to his frame like a second, dying skin. He was not looking for a criminal. He was...
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