Married To A Sex Freak
The air, thick with dust and the musty scent of damp earth, slowly filled my lungs.
Caramen emerged, her face now illuminated by the faint glow of the embers. Gaunt, sallow-skinned, she looked like a phantom, but her eyes held a fierce, wary intelligence.
“I am Caramen,” she repeated, her voice low and raspy as she scanned the room.
“I... I am... Aliya,” I stammered, the name feeling alien on my tongue.
Caramen approached, her eyes vigilant. “Why were you brought here?” she asked, a weariness in her tone that spoke of endless suffering.