The Pale Circus
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the humid air of the warehouse like a jagged piece of glass, shattering the silence that had settled over the district like a heavy, suffocating blanket. It was a sound that belonged to no one and everyone, a primal howl that echoed off the rusted corrugated iron walls, vibrating in the marrow of those who heard it, a...
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