Prologue

3 0 0
                                    

I sighed as the warm morning light caressed my skin. There was a soft, orange glow that leaked in through the window and casted shadows across my face. Every second it spread across my arms, the more goosebumps I beheld. 

I closed my eyes, imagining how the light would cascade down those green pastures. When I opened them, I saw exactly what I had seen in my mind's eye- and more. Dew gathered on the grass blades from the early morning mist and the delicate light of day shone through them, honing the color of the grass and the orange light illuminating from those little droplets.
Something about it made that hollow place in my chest grow warm. I wasn't able to pin just exactly the emotion I had felt. I closed my eyes once more and exhaled. The coldness of the night had finally ceased and the heat from the sun sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to smile. Of all the places I could be happy- somehow it was here- amidst the chaos and pain.
The empty feeling returned along with the striking torment growing in my stomach. I had eaten so little in the past few days that at night, when the anxiety was too much to bear and I leaned over to gag, nothing transpired. It was a worsening feeling as the days rolled on.There was no water or food given to most of the prisoners- even the ones who haven't gone to trial yet and could very well be innocent.

I leaned back against the wall where I sat and swallowed hard, a hint of metallic stinging my tongue. I spat onto the ground, which revealed nothing about the encounter I had yesterday. I could recall it too well. I could summon that memory in an instant, and before I knew it, I was once again reviewing it in my mind:

I sat in the shaded area of the room where the light could not reach. Little by little, I was becoming hollow- turning into a shell that merely existed and felt nothing. I felt nothing. Not the breeze, not the heat- only coldness. I only felt the cold.

I swallowed hard, my tongue swollen from not being given any drink.

I pressed my lips together and started to pick at my hand. I was in here for too long. They forgot about me. They forgot.

I wrapped my arms around my legs and stared out the slits between the bars.

The sound of keys jingling made me rise to my feet in a split second. My heart beat in my ears and I was barely able to hear the voices that trailed after the sound of footsteps. They're here. They're here. I'm going to get out.

The voices grew louder- but I didn't process them. I didn't care what they were saying- I was going to be okay.

I almost broke out in a smile- almost. Until I heard one word that pierced through that invisible wall I barricaded myself in to drown out their voices. That one word- that cursed word.

"-witch."

I felt my heart pummel in my chest. I backed up until I was pressed up against the wall. That's when I heard my cell's lock snap. That's when I heard the door squeak open. Two men walked in with wide strides and their chests puffed out. One scanned the room until his gaze landed on mine.

I flinched.

The same man stalked across the room, eyes pinning me to the wall.

"Witch." He breathed.

As soon as he came close enough, his hand flew with such an overpowering force that I could barely feel the sting on my cheek before my head hit the cement.

I loosed a shaky breath, feeling that neverending pressure slip inside my chest. They whipped me and mocked me- beat me, but it gave me something to think about other than how my family fared.

I turned to my right, peering at the moldy, stone wall. It was hard to not think of all the suffering endured here- knowing that others must have had worse than I have. I wondered what kind of secrets were buried inside those thick walls and the room next to mine. It was hard to stomach the thought that someone might be on the other side- trying to survive the brutal heat of the day. I was lucky to have been placed by the window- and I knew and thanked the crows for giving me such a blessing- but the mere thought of it-.
Seething, I tucked my knees in to study the hem of my dress. I picked at the fabric, then smoothed it out over my legs, wishing that it was thick enough for the night and light enough for the day.

The Twelve HuntersWhere stories live. Discover now