Prison

I walked the vennel, same as always, but today, near the end, a viridian-colored door drew my attention. The rusted hinges pined for use. Cobwebs laced the keyhole and spanned outward, sheathing the doorknob, and cries emanated through each crack, beseeching me. The gargoyle knocker’s mouth murmured, “Beware, my pretty.”

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