The world outside. It was beautiful, beautiful beyond words.
Scarlett walked out into the cool night air on shaky legs, breathing in the scents of freedom. The sky was a deep blue, painted with stars that glistened like gems.
She paused momentarily, the sound of footfalls reaching her ears, and, inhaling sharply, caused a body to fall to the ground behind her instantly. A glance confirmed what she had already realised-it was one of the Helionists, holding a torch and likely eager to burn her to nothing.
Her fingers weaved through the air and the flame rose into the air and floated there a moment, before shooting forwards and engulfing the cathedral and everything within it.
Scarlett felt a strange triumph wash over her, a cold, chilled feeling that blossomed inside of her soul. The taste of lives on her hands was almost addictive, if not delicious.
Her pale legs stumbled along the path in the field, away from the smoke and burning haze that illuminated the sky. She hesitated, about to stumble over, and grabbed a nearby stone well for support.
The weight of the lives on her shoulders suddenly came crashing onto her full force and she retched into the stone circle she was leaning on, losing the small amount of sustenance in her stomach.
Killing was wrong. It was only the strange spirit inside of her, the same thing the Helionists were banishing from the world that longed for it, craved it.
The torture she had endured had only made her hate inflicting pain even more, hate it with a passion.
She was becoming what she hated.