CHAPTER 1
Small flickers of light enclosed her body within the musty fragrances of the tinted room she lingered her small hand within. White as a ghost, her skin glowed carelessly against the burnish from the tiny crack splint inside of the gruesome wall behind her. The pink hues slowly grew yellow within the hungry sunlight. Her right fingers gradually combed the wall for a sign of tranquility, or of course, a peaceful grasp. Her fingertips were worn from a million lifetimes of uses. Dark, gloomy abruptness caressed only the room her body descended.
“Touch me not, little one.” Her whispering echoed through the little encasement, across the cold stone floor and bounced around the black widow that was dangling from her superb spider webs. Catching the scent of cherries carried across her breath, the spider decided to creep a bit closer, weaving its web across the dulled masonry. Fortunately, the young woman was not afraid of the arachnid and still as ever, hovered over its presence, silver tips of hair tickling her arms as she moved about.
