The Pale Garden
The silence in the village of Oakhaven was not an absence of sound but a heavy, viscous substance that coated the eaves and the cobblestones, a gray fur that grew thicker with every passing hour. It was the kind of quiet that follows a cataclysm, the held breath of a community staring at a wound that would not close. At the center of this suspended atmosphere stood the man who had once been...
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