The Cursed Clock of Blackthorn Hollow

dahlias, petals curling like browned parchment. Elias noted bitterly that children shrieked as they chased the scruffy terrier-always clockw

licker o

blood against the sepia world. She stepped into the sulfurous light, eyes glinting me

ed empty. In the glass, her ref

of the 63rd cycle." Her smile cut c

lging with sketches-the butcher mid-laugh, teeth blackening daily; the mayor's pocket watch

s her grief. Eleanor Crowe wove this cage afte

ias's throa

"The blight wasn't her curse-it was the

d into a figure watching from the