Willow rested her head against her knees as the darkness and coldness of the storeroom engulfed her. A cold sweat broke out over her body as she fought away the memories of a cold, wet cell beneath the Keep. She gasped for air and banged her head back against the wall the try and keep herself in the present.
She couldn’t stop the images flickering before her eyes. It was so real, like the past was an overlay on the present, and the pain and misery and fear of those long dark months engulfed her. She even thought she could smell the filth of the dungeon, the stench of raw sewage and rot. Her nose was burning and her eyes were stinging, but she couldn’t tell if it was from the smells or her own tears.
She banged her head again, this time hard enough to make her teeth hurt. If only.
