The Distant Whispers
The rain hammered the corrugated roof of the storage unit. It was a drumbeat, relentless and cold. Elias stood in the center of the space, the air thick with the smell of damp cardboard and old dust. He was a man built for order, a soldier who had seen the chaos of foreign lands and the quiet decay of his own. Now, he was here. Alone. In a six-by-ten box that smelled of mildew and memory. He...
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