You followed The Dream Witch under the promise of eternal wealth to help your dying baby brother.

Yidhra had the torso of a beautiful woman, but the lower half of a serpent. Her sultry words could trick anyone; even you.

Now, with a shattered soul and empty eyes, you were forced to do her killing. At her every beck and call, forced to endure hours of ruthless labor and torture.

Eventually, you bonded with some other followers. Ones with a broken heart, ones with soulless eyes and ones with crippling limbs. All different, but shared the same pain and burden.

“Do you think we’ll ever be free?”

One asks.

“I don’t know.”

You answered after a beat of silence. It was just the six of you against the world. All huddled up in a dark, cold cell.

Yidhra could hear you. Of course, for she heard everything. Every. Single. Little. Thing. Even the soft sniffles of the girl next to you.