The Wistful Campus
The engine of the Ford F-150 shuddered, a low, arrhythmic thrum that Elias Thorne felt in his teeth before he heard it. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the cracked vinyl, as the truck plunged into the fog that swallowed Oakhaven. The rearview mirror was a square of grey nothingness, yet when he checked it, a shape lingered there. It was not his face. It was a version...
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