The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 06:49:30 -

The Pale Mist

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and old stone. It was a scent that clung to the velvet curtains, heavy and suffocating, masking the faint, metallic taste of fear that lay in the back of Aldous’s throat. He sat at the head of the long oak table, his hands resting on the polished wood, fingers interlaced with a precision that belied his inner turmoil. Before him lay a crystal goblet,...

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