The Distant Nightmare
The rain in the city did not wash things clean; it only made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones of the industrial district into black mirrors that reflected the jagged, neon-lit skyline above. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood beneath the awning of a shuttered textile mill, his shoulders hunched against the chill, his gloved hands wrapped tightly around a small, velvet-lined box that rested...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews