บท 270: When the chips are down

By the time the blackness has settled around us, we find ourselves standing in a large room. It is a hexagonal room, large, and with no doors, precisely how I designed it. No light shines through for the windows are non existent, the only source of light coming from the flickering gas lanterns on the walls, high out of reach. On the cold marble walls, ornate pictures are carved with black into the marble, the tales of my ancestors, and of my past.

Pushing her off me, I let her stand, solitary, in the middle of the room, keen to see just what she might do- if anything at all. Fortunately, I am not disappointed.