DEATH COMES
By orders from Mustafa, two soldiers snatched me into their abrupt embrace and hurriedly whisked me away. Not a word shared between the two men but only silence and the clacking of their heavy boots echoed down the hallway.
When we reached my room, the two men shoved me inside and locked the door. I spun on my feet shooting darts at the barrier that now held me a prisoner. My guest’s invitation had been revoked. I flopped down on the bed, slumping my shoulders and releasing a sigh.
I should be grateful. Mustafa could’ve tossed me into the blizzard to die or locked me in a dank dungeon, with the promise of never seeing light again. But regardless of his leniency, the fact remained that I was a prisoner. My freedom had been eliminated. Now I was confined to my quarters for an
