The Faded Apartment
The road to the house did not exist on any map, yet it was the only thing that felt real to Elias Thorne. The gravel crunched beneath the tires of his car with a sound like dry bones breaking, a rhythmic, grinding cadence that matched the slow, heavy pulse of his own heart. He had driven for three days, though he could not recall where he had slept or what he had eaten. The fuel gauge had long...
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