The Pale Fracture
The dream always began with the sound of wool tearing, a soft, fibrous rip that echoed in the hollow of your skull long before you opened your eyes to the grey, damp light of the dormitory, a sound so intimate and so violent that it felt less like an auditory hallucination and more like the physical unraveling of your own skin, leaving you gasping for air that tasted of stale bread and iron...
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