The Wistful Letter
October 14, 1893 The fog in Blackfriars does not merely obscure; it consumes. I write this to you, Inspector Hall, not as a plea, but as a confession of my own unraveling, for I have begun to suspect that the iron bridges over the Thames are no longer static structures, but sentient, screaming entities that feed upon the guilt of those who cross them. My hands tremble as I hold the pen, not...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews