"I will never be completely yours... never."
Alex has just woken up in the cell that had held her prisoner for weeks; finally she breaks free from her prison, expecting armed resistance to take her back to the dungeons, but instead she comes face to...
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"Burn her alive, there is no time to put together a court, then burn her house too and make her family disappear. No one could be innocent if they are close to that witch."
"Yes father Donovan."
"I recommend discretion. We certainly do not want to cause problems for our king, do we? "
"Of course not, father."
"Well, I'll take care of the prisoner. You can go now."
The man looked at me from behind the bars and his eyes glittered with sickly interest: he took a step towards the bars, stroked the iron and whispered poisonous words, aimed to hurt me. I was not fully conscious, but I would never forget that devilish grin and that disturbing tic that made the right corner of his mouth tremble.
Sooner or later I would take revenge for all the harm he had done to me and my family. Sooner or later I would have killed him.
***
I raised my fingertips to the bars and they bent as I wanted. My lips stretched into a grin.
I slowly advanced and crossed the iron that held me captive, moving my eyes to the stone corridor in front of me, to make sure there was no one there. I couldn't wait to breathe clear air again.
Around me silence: I couldn't hear footsteps, not even the labored breathing or screams of desperate prisoners.
I watched the rags they made me wear, now almost in tatters, rubbing against the floor, and my dirty hands trembling with anger: that noise, that rubbing, reminded me of that man, with his long purple toga and his mocking smile.
I couldn't wait to see the terror in his eyes and his blood on my fingers.
I had seen many cells left open and empty, something that seemed inexplicable. Something had happened and the only way to know would have been to get out. I reached the wooden stairs and opened the door slowly, to make sure it didn't make too much noise: I was even more surprised when in the middle of the square in front of my eyes I saw stacks of bodies and the traces of what must have been a battle. Small piles of ash and charred wood were scattered around the place, the smell immediately reaching my nostrils, making me grimace.
I threw open the door and reached the square, being cautious and looking around the place: blood dripped into the stone pavement and stained the cobblestones, the tattered clothes of the corpses and their partially mutilated faces. The smell of blood and corps was unbearable, so I tore up my sleeve and used it as a handkerchief to keep the stench of the square from reaching my nostrils.
I didn't have time to think, I just had to act.
I decided to follow my instincts: get away immediately, look for a place to live and then plan my revenge. I quickly entered some houses to get what could be useful for my journey, without feeling ashamed of my raids, then in a house from the upper zone of the village I found food, a small tank to carry the water and clean clothes that I could use later. Hanging from the wall I saw a big and oval mirror. I got closer and looked at my reflection: I put my hands in my hair, stroking it and turning the dark locks around my long, thin fingers.
