The Wistful Asylum
The dream did not come with images but with a weight, a heavy, damp pressure against the chest that felt less like a nightmare and more like the physical sensation of drowning in thick, grey wool, and when Eleanor Fairchild woke on the cold stone floor of the dormitory, the first thing she noticed was not the ache in her limbs but the terrible, suffocating tightness of the uniform she was...
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