Her breaths were laboured, each one more ragged than the last. Shadows danced across the wall of the dungeon cell, … or was that just her eyes playing tricks on her? The roof let water drip every so often, while the windows allowed the wind a free path through. The scurrying of animals across the floor made the darkness feel more dark, all could be heard but not seen.
'Whoosh…' the candle burned to life, illuminating the figure of the man who stood tall above her. His silhouette seeming as tall as the ceiling, if not stretching beyond.
"Oh," he chuckled bending down to be at her eye level, "you're scared, aren't you, Sammy?"
"I-it can't be, you were… . They told me you were dead!" She stumble over her words, too overcome by shock to care, "How-"
Her crowned-blade cut through the air, leaving a hole in Samantha's heart, followed by the quiet yet loud sound of her last breath escaping. Her own sword being the last thing that she'd see. She would never get her answer as her assailant dissipated into the walls, leaving nothing but a subtle hiss behind.
Although dead, her spirit would never rest, never find 'peace' and never forget.