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[Jetra] Heathen.

Petra's POV.

It freaking hurt. Everywhere, in every cell of my body, there was this unbearable pain. Like I had been pulled in every possible direction for a week at least. To be honest, that's exactly what happened to me, though these memories were so painful I couldn't even force myself to remember those countless hours of torture.

I was being drugged by two strong soliders, who weren't exactly gentle. Due to the fact I was a little bit taller than other people, my head would rather often hit the ceiling of the tunnel, so I decided to hang it low. Of course, my weakness had nothing to do with it - at least, that's what I told myself during the walk. I'm strong. I can do it. I will not die.

Chains that restrained my wrists were rattling loudly, the sound echoing through the underground cave. I didn't fight two soliders, knowing it would only get me into more trouble. They were smirking at me cruelly, their eyes watching the curves of my body with lust. For once, I actually got happy for being considered "dangerous", because otherways they'd already be tearing my clothes apart. One thought about that made me sick.

They dragged me to a cell, which actually looked too much alike cage, and threw me in it. I hit the cold ground and instantly lifted my head up, growling at the two men as a wild cat.
- Shut up, witch! - One of them yelled and kicked me in my ribs. I swallowed my screams, tears running down my cheeks to the point where there was no point in wiping them away.

The guards locked my cell, grinning wickedly at me.
- You might want to enjoy the cold, witch. - The other one smirked. - Tomorrow you'll miss it.
- Go to hell. - I whispered, lifting myself up with my hands. The soliders just laughed evily.
- We'll see you there. - One of them smirked, and both left the room, leaving me locked up in there.

I silently looked around. It was dark in there, but my eyes slowly began to adjust. I found myself in the small cell, with nothing in it apart from a thick level of dry hay on the floor. The walls were made of cold stone, which seemed to slowly suck all the warmth away from my body. Even the air here was freezing, I tried to use my shackled hands to save at least some warmth.

- So. - All of a sudden an unfamiliar male voice echoed through the darkness. - You're a witch, eh?
I harshly turned around, looking through iron bars. On the other side of the room there was another cell. And it looked like there was a prisoner in there as well.
- What?! - I scoffed. - Of course, no!
- So why would they think you are?

- I have red hair. - I confessed. - And I refused to marry the village butcher, so...
- Oh. - The voice laughed. - I see. Life's hard when you're a woman, huh?
- You don't even know. - I sighed. Weird, but somehow I wanted to trust this voice. It was just so comforting and calming, I even forgot about my terrible fate.

- Anyway. - I leaned against the iron bars. - What are you in here for?
The voice chuckled, as if I said the best joke a person can think of.
- How do I know you're trustworthy? - It asked. - You know, if anybody from outside the Church finds out, I'm dead for sure.

I stared at the other cell through the bars. There was a dark shade in there, I could see it was a person. They - well, he, I guess - was a little bit lower than me, which wasn't surprising. And I didn't think he was much older than me.
- Please. - I rolled my eyes. - They'll burn me tomorrow. Who can I possibly tell?

The shade changed its position, so now the guy seemed to be looking directly at me.
- You seem calm. - He noticed, totally ignoring my question. - Aren't you afraid of dying? Burning down to ashes - that must hurt, but you don't look scared.
I bit my lower lip. This stranger was right, but I couldn't help but feel some sort of calmness wrapped around my heart. It filled my soul, even though the majority of people didn't believe I had one.