Her hazel eyes kept me distracted for the first few moments. She’s young, I thought. As young as I was once, But then, somehow my eyes wandered from her’s. I saw the pale, soft olive skin that rippled around them, then her hair-dark and tangled-that akwardly caught against her eyelashes.
She did not change her expression when she waved me to follow her. And I did, without hesitation.
I was led to an alleyway. Somehow, I felt safe, though the crowded streets of the city blurred behind this beautiful young woman. She took my hand—it was warm and soft, just as I had expected.
When it was quiet, she lightly pressed me against the brick wall that stood tall compared to my quivering body.
The girlish voice that escaped from her lips as she shoved a silver-lined blade into my chest, twisting, “My name is Cora,”
And I saw all of the others just like me she had slain.