Margaret

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Margaret's POV

While I was unconscious, I didn't have any dreams. Occasionally I'd wake up, but only for a few seconds before my head hit something, or someone hit my head. When I finally had come to, it was so dark I wasn't sure I had woken up. It look a while for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I found myself surrounded by stone walls without windows. I tried to get up, but could only make it to my knees before I heard rattling chains and was forcefully pulled back into a sitting position. I groaned as I felt a throbbing sensation on the back of my head. I reached up behind me and touched my hair, finding it was caked with blood. To my right was a metal bowl filled with water. I coughed, my mouth suddenly dry, and moved towards it, bending over and drinking. The water tasted like iron and blood but I drank it anyway. When I finished I sat back up, brought my knees up to my face and dried my mouth.

There was a loud creek outside followed by footsteps that were too numerous to be just one person. My door opened and I squinted as light from a torch poured into the room and over my face.

"Well well well..." A woman's voice that sounded dangerously like mine bounced off the walls. "This is the bitch that stole my face, huh?" She walked into the room and stood above me. I took in her appearance. She wore a black corset that left nothing to the imagination, and a tattered dark red skirt that was extremely short in the front and long in the back. I looked at her face. It was exactly identical to mine, except her cheekbones were much sharper, her lips were blood red, her eyes were encircled with kohl eyeliner, and instead of having my green eyes they were as red as her lips. She walked in with a certain kind of swagger that meant she was in charge. Lucy. The guard stood at the door, axe drawn up to his chest. Right, as if I had even the slimmest  chance to run.

"What do you want?" I said surprised at how level my voice sounded.

"Honestly, I don't know what he sees in you. Well, of corse he sees me." I tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sputter.

"You must be Lucy." Her hand was clamped around my throat faster then I could blink. My head slammed against the stone wall causing the room to get blurry.

"Listen, you whore," she spat, "my name isn't Lucy. I haven't been Lucy in three years." She said her name like a curse. I was starting to suffocate when she ripped her hand away from my neck and stood up. I fell to the floor gasping and coughing. Lucy stood about five feet away, her arms crossed.

"Well, whoever you are-"

"Jezebel." She interrupted, picking at her lip.

"What?"

"My name is Jezebel." She snapped. I cleared my throat and started again.

"Well Jezebel, what do you want with me anyway?" Jezebel looked at me with emotions I couldn't read. She made a quick motion with her right hand, a flick of the wrist with two fingers extended. The guard came forward and unlocked the chains from he wall but not from my wrists and ankles. "Oh, come on." I muttered. The guard just growled and sneered.

"Stanford." Jezebel said in an authoritative yet surprisingly gentle voice. She motioned to me with her eyes as if to say come on, where's she gonna go? Stanford grunted in disapproval and fondled with a bunch of keys before finding the right one and releasing my aching muscles from their prison. As soon as they were off I sighed in relief and rubbed my wrists, wincing at how raw and scraped they were from struggling against the cuffs. She looked at me with distain and whispered something to Stanford. All I could make out was wash and courtyard and hour.

Before I could ask what they were talking about, Stanford lifted me over his shoulder and carried me upstairs out of the dungeon. It was pitch black so I couldn't see a single thing. After going up a series of stairs I could faintly see the shadow of Stanford's feet, and where there are shadows there is light. I heard the sound of Stanford's huge palm forcefully slapping the door open and I was suddenly engulfed in light. I had to close my eyes to keep them from burning. After he had been carrying me for about seven minutes my eyes had adjusted enough for me to see my surroundings.

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