The Faded Apartment
Thorne, the landlord bellowed from the hallway, his voice cracking against the damp plaster, get your hands off the doorframe before I call the constable. You stepped back, your knuckles white, the smell of mildew and stale pipe tobacco hitting you before the sight of the apartment did. It was a small, cramped space on the fourth floor of a tenement that had seen better decades, let alone...
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