Oracles and seers, mystics and sages. All prophesize that now is a time of heroes, of villains and of legends. Will your story be remembered?
Life used to have meaning to her, once long ago. But the memories of such a time have long since faded into nothing and the harsh reality resettles itself soon after the sparingly few attempts she made to remember. The fleeting past left her to wonder whether there had even existed a time before she had lost all freedom. Perhaps this was all she would ever have, undeath, as a vessel without will..
She is a slave. Beaten into submission, made to be abused, to service her masters and to be devoured by their lusts. While she writhes in filth their homes are spotless, while her hunger torments her the masters gorge in feasts she prepared, they demand of her to bow down and grovel in the dirt before them and for her body, so cold and pale, they hold dark desires. She was a wretch, with no dignity remaining, no freedom and nothing to live for. This was not life; rather, she was as a living corpse, subject to the cruelty of man, trudging along the twisting road of an ill fate. So she continued on with the facade as a ghost, broken spirited, shackled, tortured.