The Pale Path
The frost has not yet melted from the cobblestones of Highgate, yet you feel the heat rising in your chest, a fever that does not belong to the body but to the soul. You are leaving, and the departure is not a choice but a severing. The gate of the old manor creaks, a sound like a bone snapping, as you step over the threshold for the last time. Behind you, the house stands silent, a gray...
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