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.
“I hear laughter in your voice
sister,” said Erin.
“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.
“I do not. I am not afraid of you
demon,” said Clathia.
“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.
“No sister. I do not fear you. I
pity you and your desperate attempts to woo Roget with love potions and spells,”
said Clathia.
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.
“You will be hanged, you will be
decapitated, burned and buried at sea. You will have no revenge,” said Clathia.
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.
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