Lanell Manor Ch. 01
NonHuman
In the mid October sun, a willowy young woman, in her early twenties by appearance, heaved fruitlessly on a worn bronze door handle. The lock, a 1970s replacement, had yielded with suspicious ease but the door, as old and daunting as the Victorian Manor it was attached too, was stuck. Heavy with warn away carvings that may have once displays divine and mythi...
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