The Pale Protocol
The ink bled into the paper, a slow, brown stain spreading from the nib. Elias Thorne watched it darken the date, *November 14th, 1924*, before he could stop the flow. His hand trembled, not from the cold, but from the vibration that lived in the floorboards of Vane House. It was a low, thrumming note, felt in the teeth more than heard in the ears. He dipped the pen again, the movement...
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