The Pale Path
The frost had settled into the cracks of the flagstones before Elias Thorne woke, a fine lattice of white that seemed to hold the house together while it quietly fell apart. He sat up in the large, dark bed, the sheets cool against his skin, and listened to the silence of the manor. It was not a peaceful silence, but a heavy one, the kind that gathers weight in the walls, pressing against the...
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