Locked in a chamber of cold black stones with thick chains clamping her wrists, and ankles to the walls.
An iron choker held her head from the floor and any further comfortable position.
no movement, no food, no thought... why this torture?
In this filthy cramped cavity only she could fit. Eyes open, staring at a white blossom blooming before her.
In no light it grew as if by what remained of her will power; budding then bursting, like in slow motion into full bloom. Pure and white - amidst the gloom and black.
small and alone, the girl died.
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