The cold, smooth marble stings my bare feet as I run through the dark temple corridor. The sound of my footsteps echoes in the silent night, breaking the sacred calm. Awoken from my sleep to carry this burden, feeling its weight and urgency crushing me. My white linen gown billows behind me, brushing against the stone walls. I whisper a prayer to Apollo, hoping he will hear me in his sanctuary and protect me.
Cassandra’s prediction rests on my lips, but nobody ever believes her. They never believe her. They think she is mad, cursed by the gods. But they are wrong. I’ll make them believe her this time. They must know that the Greeks are in Troy. Hiding.
The temple corridor is like a labyrinth of stone, full of twists and turns. Carvings etched on the walls and pallid columns depict scenes of past glories: battles won, enemies slain, gods appeased. I wonder if anyone will remember me. Will I be cut into stone when I warn them? Rallying our soldiers to arms, saving us all.
A glint of bronze from the shadows catches my eye and makes my heart skip a beat. I can’t stop. This is sacrosanct. This is my duty. A figure moves to block my path, but I don’t recognize him. His face was covered in shadow. It’s not until I look down do I see the blade in my belly. My pure white linen gown is now stained crimson. A curse escapes as I fall. The warning dies on my lips.
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Every night I wake in a cold sweat. The same nightmare haunts me, over and over. Cursed by the gods to see through the eyes of the priestess I slew in Troy. The one who looked at me with anger and frustration as she breathed her last.
Great work .. keep it up!!
Great work .. keep it coming!