Clad in flannel pajamas that read ‘Screw the Rules’ across the front, her toes twitched, buried in the cold darkness of the cell. Bread and corn soup sat untouched on the table set for her, while a pair of glowing emerald eyes shone brighter in the blackness that engulfed the four corners of her personal dungeon.
Maleficent crossed her arms and leaned back against the cold brick wall. She had been staring at nothing for three days and three nights now—if her count was right. Her horns scratched against the wall, producing a screeching sound as fire-like friction sparked from their tips.
Really. What is that man doing all this time, to make it three whole days without reporting to me? Cent grumbled inwardly.
Familiar heavy footsteps echoed within the dungeon. On instinct, Cent turned her
