November 7th, 1319
Arkney slums, Kingdom of Canterbell
She stood alone in the heart of the pathetic town she grew up in, her head tilted to the heavens as if waiting for rain. Her burning eyes stared dead against the somber gray sky.
She could not taste the fear in the air.
She could not hear the violent screams of women and children around her.
She could not feel the growing rivers of blood her small feet stood in.
She could not see the bodies.
The tangled mass of bodies.
Slowly the little girl blinked like she was waking from a peaceful slumber.
Her tunic was wet and heavy with warm blood. The fabric suctioned to her small frame, the weight dragging her down.
She watched with an indifferent gaze as hysterical men and women trampled over each other in desperate attempts to flee from the gruesome sight. From her.
She was a monster.
She was a freak.
She was an abomination.
She was Doe.