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The initial surprise of the knock had given way to suspicion.
“Who’s there?” I demanded.
My voice, strong and unwavering, echoed slightly through the metallic chamber, met with no response.
The stillness was unsettling.
Beside the door, propped up against the wall, was a thick chair leg I’d salvaged from one of the many prison brawls.
It was a simple but effective makeshift weapon, testimony to the need for self-preservation in a place like this.
Gripping it tightly, I felt its reassuring weight.
“Identify yourself,” I called out again, more forcefully this time.
Still, there was nothing but silence.
A gust of impatience mixed with dread surged within me.
I had to know who stood outside, what they wanted.
I couldn’t stand there, waiting.
Decision made, I pulled back the chair leg, readying myself for a potential altercation.
Placing my hand on the scanner, I braced for the unexpected.
The door zipped open in an instant, its rapid motion almost silent.
In its wake stood a cloaked figure.
The silhouette was slight, its posture non-threatening.
But the lack of response, the refusal to identify — these were signs of someone used to having the upper hand.
The cloaked being stepped into my cell without hesitation, an air of assuredness in each step.
While any intruder would be a cause for alarm, the figure’s diminutive stature didn’t evoke immediate threat.
But this wasn’t just any intruder.
Even as the door shut automatically behind the mysterious visitor, something in the depths of my being stirred.
It was as if my soul, long dormant, suddenly awakened, resonating to a familiar tune.
Though the figure’s face was concealed, there was a familiarity in the way she moved, in the very aura she exuded.
I needed to see, to confirm what my heart was already screaming.
Carefully, I laid the chair leg down.
The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with tension and anticipation. “Who are you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though the storm of emotions inside me threatened to break free.
The cloaked figure stood still for a moment, an eternal second where time seemed to stretch indefinitely.
Then, slowly, she reached up, her fingers delicate and graceful, pulling back the hood that had hidden her beautiful face.
The dim light of the cell bathed her features, revealing a face I had thought was lost to time and memory.
