The Faded Dust
The fog does not drift into the Priory of St. Jude so much as it presses against the stained glass, a thick, living membrane that mutes the world outside into a gray, suffocating silence. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, the warden of this isolated sanctuary, and your hands are trembling as you grip the cold iron handle of the crypt door, the metal biting into your palms with a pain...
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