***
Careful not to be seen, Ophelia made her way to the broom closet. The constant burning on her arm was a dull pain now, which she’d pushed to the back of her mind. She tapped away quickly at the bricks, and as the purple symbols appeared on them, she stepped back and allowed the wall to melt away.
By the time she got to the room below, she was burning with rage. It was a righteous rage, one which she’d buried for over two decades now. Time and time again, she’d let him push her over. She’d simply done as he asked because she had sold her soul to him. Her life was in his hands, to do with as he pleased.
But she was fed up with it, and tired of his constant intrusions into her life.
When the flames grew slowly in the grate, she readied herself. And as the shadow emerged from the gr
