The Faded Masquerade
The hemostatic gauze was already soaked through by the time I reached the third floor, the deep crimson pooling in the crease of my elbow, a visceral, metallic stain against the sterile white of my dress shirt that I tried to blot with a handkerchief that was already dark and useless. I am Elias Thorne, a structural engineer who has spent twenty years ensuring that concrete holds its shape and...
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