Chapter 14 · free to read
Refusal is resistance and resistance is a cut. I shouted at it and it grew a foot in four seconds with three of us standing underneath.
Thirty years on sites and I never lost one. I wrote his name onto a burial roll with my own hand, and that is the price the thing charged for two hundred and thirteen strangers.
The humming stopped. Not paused. Stopped. For the first time since eighteen ninety, Saint Ossian's had nothing left that it needed to say.
He said two words and then he was only a young man in a wall, and the wall was only chalk, and the silence went on and on and on.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.