The Pale Exile
You are not supposed to keep a garden in a cellar in the winter, not if you want to keep your mind intact, not if you want to sleep through the night without hearing the scratching of roots against the floorboards like the fingers of the dead trying to climb out of the earth to find the warmth that you have hoarded so jealously for yourself, yet here I am, Thomas, standing in the damp dark of...
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