The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-24 05:03:49 -

The Distant Ghost

Thorne. The name was a shout, sharp as a snapped twig. I froze. My boots crunched in the snow, a sound too loud for the silence of the taiga. I was Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and I was walking toward my death. The guards flanked me, their rifles slung low, their breath pluming in the cold air. We had been walking for three days. My legs were lead. My hands were numb inside my gloves. I...

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