The Distant Nightmare
The air in the sub-basement of St. Jude’s Memorial Laboratory tasted of ozone and wet copper. You pressed your gloved hands against the cold steel of the centrifuge. The machine hummed. A low, thrumming vibration that traveled up your forearms and into your teeth. It was a sound you knew by heart. It was the sound of your life. Dr. Elias Thorne stood three feet away. He held a tablet. His face...
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