She continued to shift around to find a comfortable position while bound by ropes that sliced her skin around her wrists and ankles. A stench of rotten meat wavered towards her as she held her breath with disgust. Her memories of the night before had strangely been filled with a man and some sort of ideal of dreams or dreaming or dreamers of some sort. Focusing her thoughts, Artie discovered several views and events of the past night. She had clearly gone somewhere, but not exactly through walking or any mode of transportation. It had been through another route. Sleep? This occurrence had never occurred before and seemed a doubtful response to what her unsatisfied curiosity. And to add that a sense of dismay hung in her mind as the question seemed of something without an exact answer.

Artemis avoided sighing. In fact, she felt under a world of confusion and lost thoughts. In a mess, Artie tried to force her up. Covered in filthy mud and a blanket of iciness, she felt numb, hungry, and ever so weary. Her intentions of running had not come to such disastrous results. Never had she thought of such Watchers coming upon Aelfwine and herself, almost as if hunting for them like a bunch of ruthless hounds. A disturbing factor, in her dictionary. There truly was no other chance. Second chances rarely existed in such associations; third chances simply did not exist. Worlds like these were simply based on a single austere law, eat or die. No it was not the ‘eat or be eaten’ rule it was you exist or you don’t. You work for the souls of the dead or die. Or even worse, lie tortured between a living soul and a dead one. This was not a merciful society, rather a backhanded-stabbing circus. Nonsense included reprieve here, trust was not a word, and believe the Dark One was the only belief.

Stumbling around the floors of the dark dungeon, the lady rose from where she had seated. Her head, a dizzy jumble. What was she to do? Was there truly no third route? To turn towards the Darkness? Would she dare? No. She could not lower to such evil. She dared not. But it could not just end in the dungeon, could it? They had a plan to use her. Didn’t they? Was it still to be used? Yes? No?

Artemis tripped over. Frustration and irritation had become suppressed too long, too long to not pour out of its heavily built walls of concrete. There seemed no light. Not even a path, unless escape and hope were counted as one. One needed much luck and help to complete that. She was alone. What could she dare to do?

A tear plopped onto the cold stone floor. Then another. And another. Nothing. Was any star to last among this ever darkness? Or were all stars to wink away into the impossible distance? Silently, the lady let her tears to roll down continuously down her cheeks. Impossible had always been the phrase she had thought she could break. Now, impossible seemed a wall so high, so thick, so unreal, so distant to reality. But yet, impossible was what made the dark exist and the light a shining beaker of hope. Hope had to live somewhere…Somewhere nearby. Always nearby. It should at least. ‘It should’ was the only phrase that seemed to remain close to her beside her dark friends. Consuming herself in sorrow, Artemis spoke not a word out loud nor a movement to express grief. Here she was. Nowhere really, just here among darkness and bitterness. There was nothing to do.