The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 11:37:58 -

The Pale Circus

The fog did not roll in; it breathed. It exhaled a cold, metallic scent that tasted of rust and old blood. I walked through the mist, my boots striking the cobblestones with a rhythm that felt less like walking and more like a countdown. I was a Captain in the Imperial Guard, or so the badge on my chest claimed. It was a silver disc, heavy and cold, pressed against my sternum. It did not...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews