The Pale Tale
The iron key was cold. It was the only solid thing Elias Thorne had left. He stood in the center of Cell Block C, the Quiet Ward, where the air did not move and the light did not blink. The walls here were not painted; they were a matte, porous grey that seemed to drink the vibration of his own breathing. Elias checked his watch. 02:00. Shift change in six hours. He needed to survive the night...
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