The Pale Tale

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2026-08-20 11:45:56 -

The Pale Tale

The iron gate was already broken. I stood in the mud, my small hands slick with the wet earth, watching the hinges snap like dry twigs under the weight of the ram. The sound was sharp. It cut through the fog. I did not fear it. I expected it. The house, Old Halloway Manor, did not fear it either. It stood tall, its windows dark and blind, like the eyes of a beast that had forgotten how to...

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