The Faded Dust
The coal dust in the ventilation shafts of Blackwood Penitentiary had settled into a fine, grey silt that coated every surface, a perpetual, suffocating blanket that smelled of sulfur and stale sweat. Warden Elias Thorne, a man whose spine had been straightened by twenty years of rigid duty, stood in the center of the exercise yard, watching the inmates shovel the endless piles of slag that had...
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