The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 12:58:27 -

The Pale Circus

The bell rang. Once. Hard. Then again. Harder. Thomas stood in the mud. Rain slicked his hair. Cold bit his neck. He looked at the gate. Iron bars. Rusted. The town slept. Or so it seemed. Windows lit up. Yellow glow. Eyes watching. Thomas tightened his grip. On the staff. Wood splintered. He did not care. He was the Warden. Now. Not the man. Just the role. The role was dying. Fever in the...

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