The Distant Clue
The iron gate of the Blackwood Asylum groaned shut behind me, sealing the autumn chill inside with the rest of the world. I had walked three miles in the mud to get here, my boots heavy with the clay of the moors, my uniform stained by the relentless, rotting rain that had fallen since dawn. My name is Elias Thorne, and I am a man who has spent twenty years keeping the peace in a place where...
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