Wispa slowly opened her eyes, at first unsure of her surroundings. Her body was stiff and cold. Her mind still confused and foggy with sleep. But still this was not right; the room was too small with only a few boxes in the corner and a blanket on the floor. Where was the door? Panic nearly overwhelmed her as she scrambled to her feet, bumping her head on the low ceiling in the process. Pain sliced threw her skull causing her to return to the floor. As she sat there rubbing the now forming knot on her head she slowly realized where she must be, the hidden closet at the top of the stairs. At least the bump had jarred her mind fully awake. Slowly she got to her feet once again, making sure not to hit the ceiling this time.
Rubbing her hands across the wall she finally found what she was looking for. With a tiny click the hidden door opened. As she stepped through the small opening she could hardly believe her eyes. A sharp scream pierce through the silence. She stood there frozen to the spot unable to tare her eyes from the carnage.
Everywhere she looked she saw blood. There were pools of it on the floor, Stains on the walls still moist and trickling towards the floor. What looked like bloody foot and handprints made their way up the stairs. She clapped her hands over her mouth muffling the second scream that rose up from with in her. That’s when she saw it. Her hands no longer bore a peachy flesh tone color, like the house they to were stained red. Her body trembled as cold terror threaten to overtake her. Get out; she must get out of the house.
Instinct took over as she forced her limbs to move. Trying not too look at all the blood, she made her way down the stairs towards to front door. Franticly she reached for the door knob pulling with what little strength she had. But the door would not open. She beat on the door screaming out for help, but no one came. Tired and half in shock she rested her forehead against the door as tears feel to her cheeks.
Suddenly the hairs rose on the back of her neck and an eerie feeling washed over her. She was no longer alone. Slowly she turned around to face her would be attacker, but the room was empty. Lowering herself to the floor she sat, sat and waited. Time passed unmeasured and unnoticed. Finally as the last rays of light filtered through the windows wispa made her way down to the bathroom to wash up. Once she had scrubbed her skin nearly raw she found clean cloths to put on and made her way through the rest of the house. There had to be someway to escape. If nothing else she could wait. Someone was sure to come looking for her soon. After all this was Qeynos not the evil lands of Freeport. Her friends were here. Here life was here. Qeynos was a safe place.
But no one came. Day after day she tried in vain to escape her new found prison. Often she thought she heard voice speaking to her. But no matter how loudly she yelled no one came. She sat cradled in the corner staring off into nothingness as a single tear spilled onto her cheek.
“Is there nothing we can do to bring her back?” Killstof asked on the verge of despair. He had sat by her side for days willing her to get better. He had insisted on nursing her himself. Why had she gone he asked himself, but he new the answer. She was a healer, so when the battle started she had to go. But during the last wave of the attack she to had fallen along side those she was trying to save. So many lives lost that day.
“We had hoped that once her energies healed she would regain consciousness. We can only hope that she is in a better place, free from the pain her body endured,” someone spoke.
At that moment a single tear fell onto wispa’s cheek.