The Wistful Saga
The heat in the floor was wrong, a low, rhythmic pulse that matched the erratic thumping of Elias Thorne’s heart, and he shifted his weight from one boot to the other, trying to find a patch of concrete that wasn’t trying to swallow him alive. "Is it just me, or is the air getting thicker?" The voice came from the left, gruff and wet with the dampness that always clung to the walls of the...
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