The Pale Shadows
You stand in the center of the drawing room, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the faint, cloying sweetness of decaying lilies that still cling to the vase by the window, their petals brown and brittle as old parchment. The house is silent, a silence so profound it seems to possess weight, pressing against your eardrums, a physical force that vibrates in the marrow of your bones. It...
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