Evelyn
The rogue’s blade pressed so close to my throat that I could feel its cold kiss every time I inhaled or swallowed. Her grip was unyielding, and the cut she had created earlier that evening had dried to a sticky paste on my neck.
Together, we shuffled into the deep dark of the woods. I wasn’t sure how she was able to navigate the nearly black expanse of trees, but she did so with ease, hauling me along but never once relinquishing the pressure of the blade she held to me.
Her relentless steps forced mine forward through the trees until, finally, the forest thinned into a short expanse of grass and the air shifted. It now hung with the distant scent of smoke like a fire that had long burned out. And in the center of the grass was a dilapidated building.
She pushed me into a
