Dec 10, 2020
Lancelot x OC
THEY COME IN THE NIGHT. Swords drawn, red cloaks vibrant and harsh. They cut through our huts and slice into our skin. It’s so quiet one moment, everyone asleep and safe in their beds, and then the next….mayhem. Screams hurdle through the air, cries and desperate pleas accompanying them.
I cling to my little sister, hold her close, feel her tears seep into my night dress.
Maybe they won’t find us. Maybe they’ll walk straight past our hut and leave us huddled in the shadows.
It is wishful, naive thinking.
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