31 August 2026
A Meeting of Dark Souls
On a cold, dank night, when the wind clawed at the windows and the darkness pressed close against the glass, a strange apparition came to my door. His face was pale beneath the rain, yet it was the look in his eyes that chilled me most: hollow, fixed, and full of some dreadful knowledge he dared not speak. Clutched beneath one arm was a worn and tattered manuscript, its pages stained and curling, as though it had been dragged from a grave and brought to me before whatever hunted it could follow.
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