The Pale Verdict
The fog rolled in thick. It swallowed the pines. It swallowed the road. Elias stood at the edge of the cliff. The wind tore at his coat. He held the rifle. It was heavy. Cold. Behind him, the village burned. Not with fire. With light. A pale, sick light. It pulsed from the windows. It pulsed from the streets. The villagers walked. They did not run. They did not scream. They walked into the...
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