The Faded Alibi
The iron gate of the Blackwood Asylum groaned against the gravel. It was a sound like a dying man’s last breath, heavy and wet. Captain Elias Thorne stood at the threshold. The fog clung to his boots. It clung to the brass buttons of his uniform. He did not shake it off. He held a small, rusted lantern. The glass was cracked. The light inside was a pale, sickly yellow. It barely pierced the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews