Unknown Figure – POV The old oak door groans as I descend the final stone steps. The scent of damp stone and rot rises to greet me like an old friend. I inhale—not for pleasure, but for control. Down here, there are no lies, no masks, no titles or politics. Only stone, secrets… and her. The torches lining the corridor flicker as if recognizing my presence, casting long shadows along the damp walls. The flames bow in silence, just like everyone else should have. My boots echo with each deliberate step, a rhythm of inevitability. She doesn’t look up—not at first. She never does. She sits just as she always has: ankles crossed, back straight, a mockery of grace. As if she still holds dignity. A fool’s delusion. “I see the rats haven’t eaten you yet,” I murmur, voice flat, emotionless. “A shame. I had such high hopes for them this week.” Her head lifts, slowly. Her hair is tangled, wild, a mess that speaks of years stolen. But her eyes—those cursed eyes—remain unchanged. Defiant. B
Last Updated : 2025-05-12 Read more