The Pale Mist
The mist does not simply surround the house; it invades it, a cold, wet ghost that seeps through the cracks in the ancient stone and settles into the marrow of your bones, a permanent companion that has lived in your lungs for the better part of a century. You are standing at the edge of the balcony, looking out at the grey nothingness that was once the valley, your hands gripping the iron...
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