The sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous stone jail. A single oil lamp flickered and cast black shadows down the dim corridor. A few muffled cries and moans drifted through the darkness. Erin pulled at the shackle and chain around her leg. The chain links rattled against the stone floor of her cell. She blinked; trying to focus her eyes in the dark, but wasn’t able to get any clarity of her surroundings.
The ground beneath her bare feet was damp and mossy. She felt across the cold stone floor with her outstretched hands. The smell was of mold and disease. She cringed and swallowed hard. She felt herself gag and she held back from vomiting. This was a place of death.
Erin squinted to see up around her. She saw a small slit of a window and her eyes adjusted to see the starlight beaming through the night sky. It was nighttime. It was her first sure realization of what happened to her. She craned her neck toward the window slit. She caught the scent of late night juniper and remembered the betrayal of her sister.
Erin and her sister, Clathia, were in love with the same knight. Roget of Kincade was brave and true and a man of passion and honor. Unfortunately it seemed that Clathia was not and had Erin arrested and tried for witchcraft. Roget did nothing to dispute Clathia’s accusations and now Erin was facing the gallows in the morning. Erin’s eyes welled with tears.
She felt along the walls and stretched out toward the window. The chain against her leg tightened and kept her from reaching more than a few feet in front of her. She sobbed lightly against the pull of the chain. She turned back toward the wall she was chained to and pulled at the shackle around her ankle. She tried to get some slack but the chain was taut. She sat down on the floor and pulled her knees up against her chest. She pressed her head against her knees.
The dungeon door creaked open down the corridor. The sound bounced loudly through the chamber. Erin lifted her head as a faint light floated toward her cell. The soft unmistakable footsteps of Clathia filled Erin’s ears. The candle light blinded Erin as Clathia stood at the bars of Erin’s cell.
“I hope you’re enjoying your accommodations,” said Clathia.
“Laughter? No. I’m truly saddened by your demonic deal with the devil,” sneered Clathia.
Erin stood and moved toward the bars to face Clathia. Clathia stepped back slightly.
“Why do you move sister,” asked Erin.
“The quiver in your breath betrays you.”
“I am not afraid.”
A smile curled across Erin’s lips. She no longer feared the hangman’s noose. She felt strong in the face of her betraying sister.
“You do fear me. And not because of the falsehoods you have created. You fear me because I was the favorite of our father. I was the favorite of the people. I am the true heir of the throne,” said Erin.
Erin started to laugh. Clathia took another step back from Erin’s cell.
“If you really believe that then you should fear me. I will have my revenge on you sister,” said Erin.
Erin stepped away from the bars. The silence of the dungeon was only pierced by the subtle drips of water leaking through the stony walls.
“I will have my revenge. It begins now,” said Erin.
A rumble reverberated through the stone floors and Clathia gasped. Erin’s eyes began to glow white hot red and she lifted her arms from her sides. The walls began to shake. Clathia dropped the candle and started toward the dungeon doors.
“No escape sister,” said a voice from Erin.
The dropped candle was snuffed. The oil lamp flickering on the wall went out.