3. Death is coming for me

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I look beside me. Into the dark and empty cell. It feels colder then it did before. I wonder if it's because I know what's coming. I had probably seen my last sunset and I didn't even got to appreciate it. I guess that's always the case in life, you only miss something, when you realize you lost it.

The decent down the staircase, which led me to this cell, seemed to last ages. I almost slipped twice, I didn't remember the stairs being so wet. Ofcourse the men didn't notice that, with their worn-out shoes to protect them against it. The cold wrapped it's biting hands around me, creeping into the core of my very existence. My weak body is barely functioning, yet I deny myself the opportunity to flinch when pain strokes through my body.

It's also a lot more quiet than I remember. But then the terrifying realization hit me; a lot of the prisoners must be dead by now. Either from the cold, the starvation or they had already been sentenced to death. Nobody ever came out here alive, besides for the prosecution. They would never admit that they made a mistake in locking up the wrong man. Or in my case, the wrong woman. Death was coming for me, I could feel it in my bones.

I had a terrible night's sleep. If you can call it that, anyways. I felt feverish, anxious, something in between reality and dreaming. Drifting into an unknown place. Maybe, death wouldn't be the worst that could happen to me. Because in death, those filthy men couldn't follow me. Touch me, as they did when they guided me into this cell. Seeing me as something less than an animal. Luckily I am marked as a witch, so they didn't dare to do more. Afraid that the devil himself would come for them.

Although I barely slept, it felt like I wasn't alone. I felt a strange wind on me, it almost feels like a presence,... a whisper, which is nearly impossible considering how deep and concealed this dungeon is. I heard rusty metal scraping over the ground and I knew... They were coming for me, my trial was about to begin.

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