The Pale Path
The carriage wheels bit into the gravel with a sound like grinding teeth, shattering the silence of the estate as Dr. Elias Thorne arrived at the gates of Blackwood Hall. He was a man of slight build and heavy eyes, his face pale as the winter sky that hung low and motionless over the countryside. The air tasted of iron and wet earth, a metallic tang that coated the back of his throat. He was...
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