The Distant Clue
The sterile white of the St. Jude’s Asylum infirmary presses against your eyes, a blinding void that seems to suck the warmth from the air, leaving you standing in a silence so profound it rings in your ears like the aftershock of a bell struck in an empty cathedral. Your hands tremble, not from the chill of the November morning, nor from the fear of the men who watch you with the detached...
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