33: Cold

Zheira was lost. All she could remember was being in a strange room and something about Eleanor. From then on, she had been shunned in the pits of shadows. She couldn’t even see her own body, but she’s not dead. 

Her heart was still beating, and yet, she felt empty like she’s in the center of a tug war; whether or not death wins her over, she knew she needed to escape this hell-like place. It was then that she started turning. The air pressure was too much for her skin, but what wrinkled her nose was the smell of corpse coming off from the unseen walls.

Voices started echoing from her hopelessness. It came from the space itself. The sound waves became louder as the world slowed down. She could make out gray walls starting to visualize in thin air. Her eyes narrowed. Before she could even scream, she landed facedown on rough ground. 

Groaning, she crouched and patted the dirt away from her shirt. Her body turned rigid when she heard the voices earlier. The