e Goodw

of a glass and wood cabin at the edg

e cabin had a minimalist Nordic design, and its large e

tless, but the air was filled with an extreme

re was mostly cold toned metal and dark lea

the master bedroom door tightly shut. Out of respec

to have vanished from the face

lly made me extremely comfortable; I could

antique restoration workbench and began restor

d the key portions of the manuscript and sent photos of it

ftsmanship without reserve and handed over several s

put me in a great mood, but the s

my uncle Arthur had sent several thugs to loiter outside th

llance and call the police directly. I knew well that on

outside the window was pitch black, with occasional strang

a small photo frame on the dis

visibly aged, showing the blurred back of a girl

reserved, and the edges of the fram

that this seemingly cold captain must also harbor

hose heart already belonged to someone else would never d

ame from deep in the forest, like

cup and walked to the floor

o see several dark shadows flash t

om my [Sanctuary of the Mind], I vaguely detected an

ad silence, as if it had merely

allucination brought on by recent exh

eters from the cabin, Cyril was crushing, with one hand, the throat of

iless as an Asura in the moonlight, and fo

the glass cabin, and his scarlet eyes instantly shed thei

thirst instinct was in an extremely agitate

pse, then vanished into the darkness, cont

Sweene

e, I washed the blood off my hands

lhouette in the cabin. It was the scene I had dreamed of for