For weeks, something pale and towering had been drifting through the streets of Hammersmith after dark. Witnesses swore it was a ghost—white as a burial shroud, silent as fog, gliding through churchyards and alleyways. Panic spread. People refused to walk alone at night. Some claimed the spirit of a suicide had returned to haunt the neighborhood.Then one freezing January evening, a frightened watchman raised his gun and fired at the figure in the darkness.By morning, the entire city was asking the same horrifying question:Had a man just killed a ghost…
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