Prisoner of a Self-proclaimed Lover

"Hello again, my princess."

Chills ran through Ercilia at the sound of that deep, husky voice, her heart immediately thundering against her chest as fears resurged. She hadn't even heard Iorwerth come in, but now, he made no effort to hide his footsteps as he walked across the room, the low sounds slowly coming closer.

She scampered through the darkness, trying to get away from him even though she knew there was nowhere to go. This place was nothing but emptiness, after all. It wasn't too long before the wall slammed against her back. So, she began to move alongside it - away from the approaching footsteps.

It's been half a week since Iorwerth locked Ercilia up.

His pace never changed - just leisurely strolling towards her as her back hit yet another wall. She huddled in the corner for a moment, knowing that she could keep backing away, but that would still do nothing. He would just keep coming. Still, if she kept moving, she would delay the inevitable.