1 Prologue and Release Date-

Her Nightmare (Of the Broken)

Prologue:

There was once an old woman, who had become dark and cold. She had lived a long and hard life, and was now completely full of distrust for her own kind. The woman left her city life and headed out to what was known as the middle of nowhere. After being mistreated for so long, this woman was full of hate. She always thought she was helping by letting people take advantage of her, wasn't that what friends were for? After a heartbreaking discovery, advice was given to her to just, stop. Stop letting people walk over her, and that she was going to need to toughen up to make it in the real world. Things were constantly changing, and she would need to be ready for whatever was to come her way. But, once she took that advice, she was hated by her society. The woman had shut her heart out from the rest of the world, and they resented her for it. They no longer had any use for her, so they treated her however they pleased. There were no longer any formalities. She was forced back into her old life of slavery, and as the woman grew older she decided that she couldn't die like that. She had made no great impact on the world, and only profited selfish people who would have been just fine without her. Point being, her life couldn't just end without it serving a real purpose. She refused to die, until she could really make something of herself, for herself.

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So, she made the decision to go find IT. Whatever it was, at least. The woman faked her own death in the city so that the slave catchers wouldn't come for her. Burned alive, maybe they would believe that she was a witch, the nasty term they called her for all of those years. It didn't bother her at first, but being the haggard witch was not a good title to have. She had been a slave for so long, they just couldn't have the opportunity to find her when she finally done something worthwhile. She wandered out of town, and to a plain of half-dead grass and trees.

It made her so curious, everything else in the plain was heavily nourished and thriving, but the grass was yellow, and seemed to be dying. Something caught her eye, a black marking on the side of a tree. That was the only tree that seemed to be dying here, just like the grass. Both isolated, damaged, and likely in danger of dying sooner rather than later. The old woman slowly walked over, and felt the marking. She turned her hand over to see what was likely cheap ink smeared all over her hand. Whatever this marking was, it was made recently. That meant someone was here, and that she could be in danger. The woman dug around in her satchel, and found her blade. She looked around suspiciously, but didn't see anyone or anything that looked like it could do her any harm. In the blink of an eye she noticed a book, it had appeared out of thin air. It sat flat on the ground, a symbol she didn't recognize lightly carved in the middle.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she hurried over to it. Opening the book, a light shined bright. But, there was nothing else special about it. Blank pages, no text of any language to be found. The woman decided she'd keep it so she shoved it in her satchel and hurried away before whatever made that marking on the tree were to show up.

After exploring long enough, the old woman debated whether risking her life to give it "more purpose", was truly what she should be doing. She could be back in town, working, earning money to help support her grandchildren. She couldn't see them because of their father, oh did she find men tedious. But just because she couldn't see them didn't mean she couldn't give them a better life from the sidelines. All right, she would go back. Pretend to be the twin of the "dead witch", or something along those lines. It was getting dark, the woman began to feel a spark of anxiety rise in her chest. There were creatures running around her, in circles. Black shadows that began to poke at her. At first they all looked like squirrels, but then they seemed to be people.

She darted away, running for what felt like an eternity. Soon, she had no idea where she was, and decided that she needed to find somewhere to stay, it was too dangerous to find her way home without the light there to guide her. The old woman turned, and a small building caught her eye. It seemed to be a cabin, a small log cabin with long plants hanging on the windowsills. Well, it was worth a shot. She walked up to the door, and knocked 4 times. There was no response, so she twisted the handle. It was locked. All of a sudden her bag felt ten times as heavy. She tried to ignore it as she began hearing noises behind her, the rustling of branches, breaking of sticks. She twisted the door handle swiftly, it wouldn't budge.

Unable to resist the temptation of checking her bag any longer, the old woman reached in and grabbed what seemed to be the heaviest without looking. It was the book. She opened it, and couldn't stop herself from reading the words that had just appeared out of nowhere. It read, "watch your back, go ahead and counter attack, enter the shack, we will not send you back...choose wisely." She had no choice when she felt an arrow lodged into her thigh. Reaching for the arrow, she groaned in pain. She ripped the arrow out of her flesh and clenched her jaw.

A shadow sprinted towards her, a small hatchet in hand. Her first instinct was to jab the enemy with the arrow, but it flew out of her hand before she could. The arrow flew at the shadow, piercing through its eye. It cried out and turned into ash. Another shadow emerged, but the arrow was gone. The old woman glanced around, hoping to find another makeshift weapon but came up empty handed. It was barely 2 feet away now, it's fist coming at her. She instinctively crossed her hands over her chest bracing for impact, but it never came. She squinted, the shadow was gone. There was a new wind in the air, she looked around suspiciously. The figure that only a moment ago was ready to harm her, now laid on the ground with its hand holding it's chest. She looked at her hands, they had a glowing tint to them, along with her wrists. The woman thought of the book, still weighing heavy in her hand and shoved the door open with all of the force she could muster.

Now inside of the small cabin, the book seemed to weigh even more. She pulled it out of her bag and set it on a rickety old desk, which oddly enough didn't seem at all affected by its large mass. "Do you need help?" An old, scratchy voice asked. The old woman turned around, startled, but found no being with her. "Up here, mistress." It added. She looked up to see a crow hanging in a small cage from the rafters of the cabin. "Who-what? Oh my stars I've become delirious. A talking bird, what next?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I assure you mistress, I'm quite real. Let me out of this dreaded cell and I'll show you." The crow assured.

Without saying a word, the woman grabbed the chair from underneath the desk and put it under the cage. She climbed up and unhooked the cell from it's hook on the beam. Setting it on the desk, she opened the door. The crow flew up, doing circles around the small space. "Oh, to be free." It sighed and landed next to the book. "Go on, keep reading." She shrugged and pulled the chair back over. This was an adventure, she did want an adventure after all. Little by little, the book was completely filled with words and so she read on. The crow pulled the top of a lantern in its mouth and set it on the desk.

It encouraged her to keep reading, no matter how dark it would get in their newly shared space. When she stood up she had many a questions, some to which she would never receive an answer. The old woman had no idea what she had just started, but she would be the first of many to face the consequences. The crow began in a hushed tone, "I guess this isn't your normal fairytale, but it sure will be interesting." "What?" The woman asked, barely peeling her attention from the page. "Nothing, nothing at all."