The Pale Shadows
The gate was rusted the color of dried blood, and the iron bars were slick with a cold that seeped through Elias’s wool coat. He stood before Warden Halloway, his hands trembling not from fear, but from the effort of keeping his voice level. Behind him, three seconds in the past, the Pale Shadow moved. It was a translucent duplicate, a ghost of his own posture, its mouth opening in a silent...
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