The Doom That Came to Mortlake Hall
Fiction by Arbogast | For the first time in years, the young and vigorous special agent could not stop his phlegm-covered lungs from coughing, nor could he heal his aching head. It felt worse than a cold, but not as bad as the Spanish flu, which had once put Lieutenant Midnight of the famed Yankee Division on the shelf for the entirety of January 1919
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