Ch. 16 (part 2)

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Darkness, darkness all around me. It's the only thing I see, I feel nothing. I breathe in the darkness, I breathe out the darkness. Where am I?

Somewhere in the dark of my entrapment, I hear them. They cackle, and howl. The pitter-patter of their little footsteps on the stone floor beneath us calls out. The flutter of their tiny wings as they dart to, and away from me. It's always the same.

"Please, stop this." My voice is hoarse, and tired. I can't tell when it was I slept last.

No response, as usual. Only the incomprehensible grumbling of the darklings. That's what I've come to call them. The creatures beckoned by the night. The tiny beings that dwell within this tomb in which I'm held.

Friend or foe? I haven't the slightest idea. They never harm me, not directly. It's more of a constant nuisance. A vigilant guard that's kept watch over me. I know nothing of their intentions. I know nothing of this place I now call home. I know nothing at all.

"If you could say something, or even just a noise, please."

They seemed to laugh at my pleas. More mischievous than menacing.

I had tried countless times to reach out to them. Even if they were foes, I had been alone here for so long, at this point I'd appreciate any sort of company.

It had been weeks since I gazed out on that magnificent scene outside these cold, castle walls. A hooded figure came into the room, and bound me to a chair facing the door. I was not blindfolded, but I may as well have been. Without the light from the window, I was bathed in darkness. I drowned in it. That's when the darklings first arrived. It seemed the lonelier I was, the more anguish I felt, the more they came around. I would watch the door before me, and hope every day, and night that I would be found. Like a princess waiting in a tower I awaited my prince--or really anyone at this point.

As more time went on, the more I lost hope. Now it was barely hanging on by a thread. It was times like this I wondered what the other me was up to. Was she just as miserable? Or was she happy? I tried to be mad at her. Blame her for my unhappiness, for my distress. But, it was in vain. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't hate her. I couldn't hate myself. She was me. Is me? It's all very confusing. The kind of confusing that comes with a complimentary headache. Free of charge.

That hope may have been thinning, but it wasn't gone. Defeated as I felt, I dared not give into desperation. I dared not lose that last bit of hope. I sunk further down in the darkness, eyes fixated on the old, wooden door. I could have been dreaming, but I hadn't slept in so long I doubt I'd remember what dreaming felt like. The darklings seemed disgruntled. I heard clamoring outside my prison door. The locks in place clanked, and clattered, and that old, wooden door swung open.

Was it my prince? No, I had no such luck. It was the hooded figure.

"Hello?" My words fell flat.

The hooded figure approached me, and moved behind the chair.

"What's this? What's going on?"

He spoke not a word. His hands untied me, and lifted me from where I sat. Was he letting me go? No. What would be the point? Where could I possibly hope to run to?

The darklings scattered away as the hooded figure walked me from the room, and out into the dreary castle halls.

"If you could just tell me where we're going?"

Silence was my only answer. He escorted me down a winding staircase, lit only by dim torchlight. Our shadows danced on the stone walls, and I soon filled with fear. Fear of the unknown, and my fate to come.

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