The Pale Tale
Elias Thorne counted the hours on his wristwatch, the metal band cold against the damp skin, while the looms above him hammered a rhythm that felt less like work and more like a funeral drum. It was his third night on watch in the basement of the Halloway Textile Mill, a job he had accepted not for the pay, which was meager, but for the chance to prove his worth to the new foreman, Mr....
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