The Pale Echo
The rain lashed against the high, barred windows of the containment facility at Blackwood Ridge, a relentless, gray drumbeat that seemed to vibrate through the very bedrock of the institution, blurring the line between the storm outside and the sterile, humming cold of the interior corridors where Detective Elias Thorne stood, his uniform stiff with sweat and the metallic tang of fear, watching...
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