The Pale Shadows
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the world outside the window of the manor house into a blur of indistinct shapes. Inside, the air was stale, thick with the scent of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of fear. Thomas sat at the heavy oak desk, his hands resting flat on the surface, fingers splayed wide as if trying to anchor himself to the...
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