Once more, the string to his violin vibrated and produced a solemn sound, a tune that had been taught to him a long, long time ago.

He stretched his wings and they spread wide, covering a span of ten meters on both his sides. The majestic white shroud behind him created a beautiful contrast against the darkness that governed the cave. It made him appear like a divine apparition who brought forth a flurry of clouds to save the broken inhabitants sheltered within the never-ending gloom.

Within his century-year-old prison, he continued to play his instrument, long ebony hair dancing in the air, body whirling along with the music.

After a few minutes, he got tired of the murky ground and looked up. The barren space above the cave called upon him with a promise of momentary freedom. So with his violin held firmly in one hand, its bow in the other, he bent his knees and then flew. Restlessly, he circled the inside of the cave, fiddling with his instrument. Its tune bounced off the walls and echoed a solemn rhythm that reflected his anguished heart. He went on and on, circling, playing, brooding, until finally, the chains that had clung to his ankle for years strained, warning him that, that was as far as he could go. Slowly, he flew down and retracted his wings.

Caged like an animal, he had been locked up inside the darkness of the cave for years, ensconced in the memory of his previous life. His dark prison was like an octopus. Its tentacles—the sadness. It was an endless gloom that had clung to him for years, sucking him dry of life and hope. His only solace was the opportunity to challenge the members of the family that had robbed him of his freedom. They had thrived in his power, became leverage for them in the human realm, and had been winning against him for centuries. But as the years progressed, the humans had dwindled, not only in courage but also in intelligence. He felt it, success, finality, and freedom. He would once more roam the sky with all his glory. He would finally be free, in the way he truly wanted to be.

"One more, just one more." He murmured, as he solemnly gazed at the chain around his ankle and the markings on the cave's wall.

***

She twisted her wrist and cursed at the man who cuffed her on the bedpost. "You can't do this to me! Who the hell are you, people?"

She had pleaded and questioned everyone since she woke up, but not one of the ten men that surrounded her answered. They simply bowed their heads and promised that once she succeeded, they would offer their lives on her feet.

Scared and unable to accept their answer, Samantha tried to reason with them again. But when no one acknowledged her, she decided to scream unceasingly until her throat felt dry. She must have screamed her heart out for five long minutes but the men who encircled her bed remained motionless, like a group of statues that were void of emotion. So Samantha finally gave up and leaned her head on her hands which were still bound to the bedpost beside her.

A few minutes after her incessant insistence to free herself from her metal restraints, the door to her bedroom opened. A rumble permeated from it, which got her scooting toward the headboard, hand straining from the distance she created with the post she was bound in.

A man, perhaps in his late fifties stepped inside. He was tall, had a medium build, and was fair in complexion. His face was lined with weird markings, or perhaps they were wrinkles, she couldn't properly tell. She eyed him carefully as he made his way toward her. His seemingly old-school-looking tux blocked her entire view of the room when he sat right in front of her.

"Young miss, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Frederick Carroma, the butler of the Dela Tore Estate."

Before the man could utter more, Samantha cut him off and asked, "Dela Torre?"

"Yes, young miss. You are the last heir of the Dela Torre's."

At the mention of that, Samantha closed her eyes and found her mind drifting toward a memory. When she was younger, her mother—a kind and gentle woman—had repeatedly told her that she was the daughter of a rich and famous man. She never named him though, and that was perhaps the reason why she never believed her. Her mother even went as far as saying that perhaps, one day, her father would come for her. Was that day it?

When Samantha opened her eyes, she found the butler staring at her with utmost curiosity. She frowned at him, and he instantly shifted his gaze toward the other people inside the room. He nodded his head at a certain person and they immediately made their way out, leaving Samantha and the butler alone.

"Forgive me for what I'm about to do young miss, but it is dire that you successfully finish the task. Lives depend on it."

Samantha couldn't infer what the man meant, until out of his pocket came a small syringe filled with translucent liquid. She screamed. It was discernible that the syringe was meant for her. She tried to wriggle free from her bounds and desperately plastered herself into the headboard as if wishing for it to move further to provide a little more space for her to back into. But despite her efforts, the cuffs didn't give way, nor did the headboard move. Within seconds, she felt a sting on her left shoulder, and slowly, haziness overtook her senses, sending her into a world of swirling colors until nothing was left except for darkness.

When she next came to, she found herself inside a cart that was being pulled by two men. Other people walked alongside them, carrying lamps and flashlights. She looked around and perceived that they were inside a dark forest.

When a cold wind bellowed toward them, she felt chilled, and instantly, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Upon doing so, she was startled to find that she no longer wore the faded jeans and black shirt she had worn. She instead, was donned in a white, silk nightgown. The neckline of it was in a V-shape that dipped too low, and her breast almost spilled out of them. And because she was seated, the gown appeared long, but she knew it was shorter. She could tell because the nightgown was something she was familiar with. It was a product of a company called Dela Belle lingerie. She always wanted one, but never wished to acquire the dress in such a way.

As the cart continued to move, her body rocking along with it, Samantha couldn't help but wonder if she was about to die. Had she been turned into a sacrifice for some weird cult? She was still young. She had dreams that
needed fulfillment. The heavens couldn't have possibly turned their back on her like that. She still needed to become a famous musician! As her surroundings grew darker, Samantha couldn't help but berate herself for all the times she cowardly turned her back on opportunities that came her way. She had missed a lot, just because she was too scared to face the obstacles that came with it. Tears pooled at the side of her eyes as those thoughts flooded her mind. There was something about them that made her stomach knot tightly. She had a chance and a choice, but at that moment, it seemed that she'd never be given one, ever again.

The procession suddenly came to halt when they reached the entrance to a clearing. Unlike the previous path they had taken, the place seemed quieter. There was no rustle of leaves, no whooshing sound of the wind, not even a scuffle on the ground, which for her was weird. There should at least be a rodent or some common breed of bird that thrived there. Even crickets, that almost dominate the evening forest were nowhere to be heard. It was unreasonably silent. The group of men who were with her turned from left to right, as if sizing the place. They were agitated, restless, and seemed petrified.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?"

Despite the pleading tone of her voice, no one answered. They kept their heads and neck busy, moving them from side to side as if searching for something. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into an hour. Samantha felt like her entire body had been frozen. She shook, rattling the shackles in her ankles.

Just as she thought her mind had played a trick on her when she saw a floating light from the distance, the familiar voice of the butler echoed around them.

"Everything is ready. Take her there," she heard him, command.

Instantly, the cart that carried her started to move, entering the clearing and then making a beeline toward an odd-looking set of trees. She couldn't tell whether they were oaks or something else. Soon enough, they arrived in a more secluded area, where the trees were larger but fewer and the land was more rounded, forming soft hills and sharp, rugged slopes. She heard the sound of running water in the distance, and could only guess there was a river somewhere not too far. She was half right because after a few minutes, they arrived in front of a majestic display of water that fell on a crystal clear basin. Samantha couldn't help but marvel at the sight. The waterfall looked amazing. But as she stared at it longer, she noticed something odd. Despite the rumble that came from the intensity of the waterfall that crashed on the unsuspecting pool below, there was a weird stillness on them which was an impossibility that left her in awe and disbelief.

"This is where we leave you, young miss. We will pray for your safety," a man probably in his teens said to her, prying her gaze away from her endeavor.

"What? You're leaving me here? You can't!" Samantha yelled. But her pleas were met by deaf ears when the men that previously guarded her disappeared into the dense forest they had come from.

"Come back!" She yelled as she stifled a cry. She pulled on the chains around her ankles and desperately tried to free herself, but the strength of the chains never gave way.

She glanced around, her eyes landing on the three lamps that surrounded her cart, left behind by the group. She was scared. She liked being alone, but not that solitary.

"Help! Please help!" She yelled, desperate to have someone beside her. But the crashing of the waters from the fall drowned her strained voice. She shouted over and over, but no one came back. She was left alone.

The minutes dragged on and like a chained animal, she whimpered and curled into a ball. Shivering and almost void of consciousness, she thought to herself, this is my end.

"That's an assumption, rather than a finality."

Samantha felt like her soul had jumped out of her body due to the cold and low tone of the voice. Shivering, she looked around but saw no one.

"Frederick, take her inside!"

Samantha jolted when out of the corner, just beside an odd-looking tree, the butler appeared. He looked hesitant as he approached.

"Answer him as best you can. All that matters is he finds sense and amusement in them," he whispered to her before he yanked the chains that were connected to her ankle off of the cart.

Samantha squirmed when the man dragged her. She tried to fight him, but her legs refused to move in the way she wanted to. All she was capable of was to follow as the butler continued to tug on her chains, guiding her toward the side of the waterfall. Moments later, they arrived in front of a cave, its mouth, too dark for Samantha to comprehend what lay inside.

"Please, why are you doing this? You said I was the heir? Then why, why? Please, I'm begging you, don't do this to me."

The butler stared at her, and for the briefest of seconds, she saw pity in his eyes. She thought he had changed his mind, but once again, she was wrong.

"All you have to do is answer him. Remember, answer as best you can, in a way that would amuse him." That was all the butler said before he secured the other edge of her chain into a hook that hung on a large boulder beside the cave's entrance and left.

Samantha yelled at him, pleading, as his back vanished into a thick fog.

Alone again, she shivered and that made her knees turn to jelly. Yet despite it all, she tried to steady herself and gave silent assurances that she was okay. However, when the hooting of an owl from a distance reached her ear, the tremble in her body increased. Her heart thumped like a thousand hooves were trotting inside her chest, she couldn't help but scream for help, hoping that someone would return to save her. But no one came, and the solitary feeling seeped inside her once more, mercilessly mocking her tragic circumstance.

Samantha couldn't tell how long she stood like a newborn deer in front of the cave but as the cold and helplessness consumed her, lightheadedness crept in. She was near losing consciousness from the raging pounding of her heart when from within the cave she saw an orange light. Scared but curious at the same time, she squinted her eyes to have a better look. The light started to move shedding illumination upon the walls of the cave, and it appeared to be in motion towards the mouth of the shaft before her. At that moment, Samantha had the mind to scream, but she couldn't force anything out of her mouth. She could only stare as the luster continued to meet the entrance. Not long after, Samantha noticed a shadow on the walls against the light. It looked like a man carrying something on his back.

Desperate, Samantha yelled "Hello!" She knew it wasn't wise and dreaded that whatever was inside the cave was perhaps dangerous. But if it was a person, all she needed to do was talk to them. Maybe, she could reason with whoever they were and beg for help.

So she kept her eyes on the light and as the seconds ticked by, the shadow, along with the orange glow approached her fast, and just when she thought she found salvation, her eyes widened in disbelief. The shadow she saw was not carrying something on its back, it looked too big and shaped strangely. In just a blink of an eye, the baggage the man carried started to move. It stretched on both sides and a second later, Samantha was finally presented with the entirety of the shadow. She screamed and thought to herself, wings... It has wings!

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