The Golden Scar

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2026-08-21 18:52:55 -

The Golden Scar

In the dream, the ivy bled. It started at the root. A single vein of crimson pulsed through the green leaf. Then another. The vine shuddered. It was not a plant anymore. It was a hand. It reached for Margaret. She woke. The air was cold. The stone was wet. Margaret Holloway sat up in her cell. The walls were weeping. Condensation trickled down the limestone in thin, shivering lines. It was a...

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