The Wistful Letter
Elias woke with the taste of rust in his mouth. The cellar was dark, but not empty. A low, rhythmic tapping echoed from the stone walls. Tap. Tap. Tap. It was the sound of a nail being driven, or perhaps a finger drumming on glass. He knew the sound. He had made it. He sat up. His wrists ached. The chains were gone. That was the first miracle. The second was that he was still alive. The third...
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