Sasha stirred with a groan, her head pounding and limbs sore. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she frowned and looked around.
Cold stone walls. Iron bars. A bucket in the corner. She was in a prison cell.
"What is this? This place is disgusting. Do they expect people to live in here? Ugh."
She muttered, sitting up and rubbing her wrists.
The stone beneath her was damp, and the straw scattered for bedding stank of mold and old blood.
Wrinkling her nose, Sasha stood and stretched. Her fingers glowed faintly as she traced a small rune in the air.
With a soft click and a pulse of mana, the cell door creaked open.
"That was too easy. Do they really think this kind of lock would hold me?"
She said, brushing off her skirt.
As she stepped into the hallway, the stale air hit her like a wave. She paused and looked at the other cells—and her stomach twisted. Most of them held corpses.
