There was nowhere to run; nowhere to hide from the specter of the boy. He could follow her anywhere and everywhere. She couldn’t touch him; couldn’t fight him; couldn’t harm him. If she tried to escape, he’d know instantly. There was nothing she could do; nothing to do except sit and wait for death to take her.
And so she sat in the dark, naked upon the cold wet floor of the Chamber, her eyes cast away from him as she nursed her bruises and cuts.
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