‘Bregar! Garum!’ one shouted. Two huge men as ugly and hideous as goblins came forth. Their faces were grotesque and they smelled worse than the ...ungeon. The three girls gasped in fear. ‘We got three new ones for you. Lord Zeather wants you to place them in Cell Thirteen.’ instructed another. The prisoners there gasped. ‘What’s in Cell Thirteen?’ asked Tarma, who’s trembling. ‘Things that only nightmares are made of.’ Bregar grinned sinisterly. Pristine’s eyes opened wide. She’d heard of. They’re not even sure whether it was the so-called ‘Cereal’ guy or not. That’s the thing that probably gnaws at her the most, I should think. First the event itself, and a flurry of sympathy, support, outrage and determination, but then the gradual drip-drip of resignation, disinterest, everyone else moving on with their lives. And the sense of injustice that the perp’s still out there. Laughing.I sat outside in the sun, chuckling at something the waitress said when she brought my latte and. More

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