My Choice
When I awoke the next morning, I spent a few moments gazing up at the beams above, my poor vision tracing what little I could see of their grooves. I had slept a dreamless sleep—a miracle—but the events of the previous evening trickled slowly into my memory, tainting my reverie. Augustin . . . he sacrificed a Saxon woman to Wuotan . . . and he r***d her first . . . then he brought me to his cottage . . . where I lost control . . . and he drugged me and brought me back here . . . .
His final declaration swirled around in my mind as my body began to shiver beneath my blanket, perhaps an extremely delayed form of shock. What you decide to do with me now is your choice. You have until Tuesday. Today was Friday. I was lucid enough to know that. Tomorrow was the last day of the Oktob
