The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 19:58:50 -

The Pale Mist

Sign, Father. The ink is fresh, and the bell will not wait for your conscience." The Bishop’s voice was a dry leaf skittering across stone, devoid of warmth or mercy. I sat in the damp corner of the interrogation chamber, the iron-bound ledger resting heavy in my lap, its spine cracked from years of use. The air in the cell was thick with the smell of wet limestone and old blood, a cold that...

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