The Pale Mist
Elias Thorne woke with the taste of cold river water on his tongue and the distinct, aching sensation that his left hand was heavy with a weight that was not there, a phantom burden that mirrored the steel badge he had been clutching in his sleep. The pale fog of the dream had not fully dissipated in his mind, leaving him gasping in the dim light of his small apartment, the digital clock on the...
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