The Beast Within

Taken

"𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔳𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔫."

I woke to the sound of water dripping against the flat surface of stone. It echoed like the beating of a drum against my aching head. With a groan, I sat up. Chains rattled. I raised my hands to find them bound by heavy iron shackles. What the devil?
My eyes peered through the darkness, discerning only the faintest shapes in the dim moonlight's glow. Glasses, where were my — ah, there. I picked them up from the floor, cursing at the large crack I felt across the right lens, and pushed them up my nose to look at the shapes again. Were those... bars? Alarmed, my fingers dug into the ground. Earth... So this wasn't the jail back home. They hadn't dragged us back for murdering our mother and her latest lover. 
With a grunt, I pushed myself up to my feet, swaying as a dizzy spell hit me. My hand shot out to find a perch, and I grunted as my skin broke on the jagged rocks behind me. Blood seeped from the gash, but I didn't care. A cut was the least of my worries. 

"Annika?" I whispered. "Annika, are you there?"

I listened carefully. All was quiet. Again, I called to my twin, my unease growing tenfold. "Annika?"

Finally, a groan. A relieved sigh fell from my lips. I felt my way around my prison, hoping she was near me. But the more I moved, the more I realised I was alone. Another groan penetrated the darkness. It sounded strained and far away. Light, I needed light.
I patted my torso, searching for the luminary vial I kept in my shirt pocket, but found to my horror I'd been stripped bare. My mind raced, desperate for answers to a million questions, the most urgent ones being where we were and who had imprisoned us.

Then I noticed a curious scent in the air. I closed my eyes and sniffed. Cinnamon, nutmeg, and... My eyes shot open, memories triggered by the spicy, enticing aroma. The gingerbread house in the woods... It hadn't been a dream after all! But that house was supposed to be a myth. A fairy tale to scare children into staying at home. Yet if it was real... 
No, no, this was bad. I had to get us out of there! Frantically, I pulled at the bars of my cell. I kicked and pounded, but they didn't budge. Despair gripped me as my thoughts irrevocably returned to our captor and the stories my father used to tell us before bed. If the house was real, was the witch as well? Did she yet live? Or had those children truly shoved her in her oven? 

Suddenly, lights came on. Torches burned brightly, revealing a round cavern with a crevice up above. I gripped the bars in consternation when I caught sight of my sister slumped against the wall of a cell across from mine. She, too, had been stripped of her clothes. But her nakedness wasn't what alarmed me — it was the charred stump where her left hand used to be.
Annika looked at me with empty cerulean eyes, her russet hair tangled around her pale face. She shivered and hugged her bruised legs, huddling for warmth. My blood boiled in rage. Who did this? Who dared? 

"Hey, look at me," I waved to get her attention, poking my hands through the bars to ensure she'd clearly see my signing. "You'll be okay. I'll get us out of here."

A little smile crept up the corner of her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes as she shook her head. My heart jolted. I signed more urgently, emphasising every word I spoke. "No, Annika, don't give up. Please be strong. Please..."

My plea fell away, knowing full well Annika had no strength left. She'd suffered the most since our father died seven years ago. Since his protection against our mother had faltered. Annika had been abused and broken far too many times. And I'd only made it worse. I'd given her a taste of freedom. The hope that, maybe, she could have a future, after all. If only I'd never taken her into those wretched woods! This was my fault! I had to —