The Pale Tale

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 15:38:32 -

The Pale Tale

The air in the cellar was thick. It tasted of damp stone and old rust. Marcus stood still. His fists were tight. Knuckles white. The concrete floor was cold. He could feel the chill through his boots. Behind him, the door was barred. No light. Only the hum of the refrigerator. It buzzed like a dying bee. "Come on, then." The voice was low. Smooth. It belonged to the man in the corner. Elias....

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews