Katrina’s POV:
The heavy sounds of footsteps echos around the dingy dungeon darkened by the walls blocking any penetration of light, the dungeon smells extremely funny, like a mixture of cat pee and a filthy pigpen. It's revolting.
Standing by the chair my grandfather sat on, I leaned a hand on it and stared at the immobile woman being dragged forward by two guards.
Even though she’s unable to move, the fire in her eyes screamed pure rage, a crazed promise for vengeance lurking within their depths as she glared at the both of us.
Her hands are bound by silver cuffs called a trapper; an enchanted tool used to suppress the powers of a creature while trapping them in a state of immobility from the neck down. Once both guards had her settled and strapped into the t*****e chair they step
