The Golden Maze
The mirror in the hallway does not show your face, but a version of you that is thinner, older, and hungry. You stare into the glass, and the reflection stares back, its mouth moving silently, whispering the only truth the town of Oakhaven allows: you are the disease, not the healer. The air in the house tastes of rotting apples, a thick, cloying sweetness that coats the back of your throat,...
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