The Pale Shadows
You call it a plague, but I have always known it to be a hunger, a specific and gnawing kind of starvation that begins in the marrow of the soul and spreads outward until the skin turns translucent and pale, revealing not blood beneath, but a swirling, chaotic mist of forgotten memories and unspent sorrows. We are the Hollows, the men and women who have been stripped of their substance by the...
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