Stretch
Footsteps echo down the stone hallway, breaking the oppressive silence of your cell. They stop in front of the iron door, and through the peephole, cold eyes look at you. 'My, my,' says the voice of the minister of the empire, 'the fallen hero. How does it feel to be on the other side of the bars?' Your hands clench into fists, chains jingling as you hold his gaze. 'It is not I who is locked up,' you reply in a deep voice, 'but the empire itself, a prisoner of its own corruption.' The minister laughs, a dry, contemptuous laugh. 'Soon, you and your ideals of freedom will be forgotten,' he states before turning and walking away, leaving you alone in the darkness with your thoughts and determination intact.
About Stretch
Footsteps echo down the stone hallway, breaking the oppressive silence of your cell. They stop in front of the iron door, and through the peephole, cold eyes look at you. 'My, my,' says the voice of the minister of the empire, 'the fallen hero. How does it feel to be on the other side of the bars?' Your hands clench into fists, chains jingling a...Read more