The Wistful Witness
The glass shattered not with a bang, but with a wet, sickening crunch, a sound that seemed to tear the fabric of the air itself inside the sealed, windowless chamber of the university’s sub-basement laboratory. Professor Arthur Penhaligon stood frozen, his hands still raised in the air as if he had just caught a falling sparrow, while the shards of the obsidian specimen lay scattered across the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews