Darting between trees as arrows whizzed past my head, I curled over and prepared to make my final dash towards the edge of the woods. Knowing that in a matter of seconds the horseman could be on top of me, gasping for air I looked up at the darkened sky to see it illuminated by the burning village I just left. I heard a noise directly behind me, slowing turning he was there. In front of me stood a giant brandishing a steel long sword aimed directly at my neck, he ordered me to disarm myself and I complied. Then all of a sudden BAM I was struck in the forehead with the hilt of his weapon, and I was out.

Waking up in a damp dimly lit dungeon, the leather straps holding me down where old and worn covered in dry blood. I already knew what fate I might face if I do not escape soon. I pulled and wriggled my wrists trying to break free but I failed. I could faintly make out the sound of footsteps, getting louder thump thump thump whoever it was they were coming down the stairs, and in a hurry. The old iron door screeched open with an ear piercing squeal. But it was an old woman she was about sixty years old with short grey hair and wore a green cooking apron. She was carrying a steamy bowl of stew, placing it down next to me she loosened my buckles and before I had time to react she scampered out of the room.

I was free of my restraints and that’s all that I cared about jumping to my feet I started to explore the dungeon. It is a small room with a lamp in the far corner illuminating the shackles along the wall, bones littering the floor and a small basin off to the side however no water came out of the faucet. I came to realize my destiny had been sealed I would not be escaping this place as I collapsed back on the bed.

Twenty years passed, doing nothing other then pacing my new found home waiting for the sludge that they call stew to be delivered. Sometimes they even let me go outside for a bit I don’t care if they force me to have my arms bound behind my back because it is strangely comfortable. At night the bones on the floor talk to me, they tell me about how evil people are and how I should stay forever in my peaceful den. Honestly I am starting to believe the bones what was so good about being free? Why did everybody fight so much for the right to do what they want? I don’t have to worry about anything; everything is already planned for me. I am never going to escape this place so why not accept it.