100. Fallen

The hardest part of this all was getting out of the hole…

I had walked around the spacey room and tried to find some other way out, anything from a door, stairs, or even another hole that could lead me out easier, only to come up empty. 

In the far left corner of this abandoned room, broken glass littered the stone flooring and blood the color of dark oak stained an old and matted rug; I wondered what kind of stories did this room hold? Whose blood was shed here and why? What secrets were kept here? 

My hands trembled as they held onto dear life, I prayed the roots which now tangled themselves between my pale fingers painfully would hold their own and myself, my feet pushing up on the bookshelf I had moved and climbed atop of; Cassandra growled at me, angry