The Pale Garden

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2026-08-20 00:35:26 -

The Pale Garden

"You are bleeding," he said. The voice was low. It came from the shadows near the heavy oak door. I turned. My head swayed. The room spun, a slow, sickening tilt. I looked down at my hands. They were red. Not bright red. Dark. Thick. It was my blood. Or was it? "Stop it," I whispered. The man stepped into the light. His face was pale. His eyes were hard. He wore a suit of black wool. It was...

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