The Faded Guest
I woke with the taste of copper on my tongue. It was a thick, metallic flavor, like licking a battery or biting into a raw coin. The air in the room was stale and heavy, smelling of damp wool and old paper. I sat up. The sheets were tangled around my legs, cold and clammy. Outside, the wind rattled the windowpanes of the old estate house, a sound like dry bones knocking together. The house was...
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