The Pale Protocol
The ink is still wet on the final line of this confession, a dark smear that resembles a bruise on the parchment, and I write it with hands that tremble not from the cold of this high, drafty tower, but from the sheer, crushing weight of a truth that has finally, terribly, detached itself from my soul to become a separate, living thing. I am Sir Elias Thorne, Keeper of the Archives of the City...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews