Shards of Sin (solo)

[Kalestiya]

The dark faded, and Kalestiya stood somewhere new. She blinked, looking around, but nothing felt familiar. Her bare foot hit hay, its rustle sharp in the quiet. She lifted her foot, wiggling her small toes and saw the hay fall off. Her chest tightened; she was in a barn. Thin rays of sunlight snuck through cracks in the wooden walls, throwing light across the straw-covered floor. The air was thick, smelling of dust and a faint rot that stirred memories of past nightmares. Her toes dug into the scratchy hay, and she felt exposed, vulnerable. A soft creak broke the stillness, and her heart jumped. Those whispers, low and sneaky, wrapped around her name again, making her skin prickle. She stood frozen, sensing something, and unsure what to do next.

The barn door creaked, and three men walked inside. They moved with confidence, shoulders loose, but their eyes were sharp, scanning the dim space. One tilted his head, catching sight of Kalestiya, and a slow grin spread across his face, mirrored by the others. Their gazes locked on her, heavy, unhurried, drifting down to her bare feet, her toes—small, soft, curled tight in the hay. Kalestiya’s heart thudded, a flush creeping up her neck as their stares lingered, too long, too intent. They fanned out, silent, their boots barely rustling the straw, closing the space between them. The air thickened, her breath shallow, each man’s grin carrying a quiet menace, their eyes fixed on her feet with a strange, predatory focus. She backed up, the hay pricking her soles, trapped in their tightening circle.

Kalestiya felt like a deer, surrounded by wolves, and with no way out.

One of the men moved first, a sudden step that jolted her nerves. His hand shot out low, fingers aiming straight for her ankle. She gasped, twisting to the side, barely slipping free. Straw scattered under her feet as she staggered back, dress brushing her knees, breath hitching. Another man lunged from the left, faster this time, and closer. His fingers grazed her heel, just enough to steal a cry from her throat. She spun away, heart slamming against her ribs, hair whipping behind her.

The third man didn’t rush. He walked, calm and measured, like he already knew where she’d end up. They were toying with her. She could see it in their eyes, how they watched her feet, tracking every movement, every misstep. She tried to dart between them, but the tallest caught her firmly by the wrist. She yanked, breath sharp in her throat, but he didn’t flinch.

“Got you,” he muttered, low and almost amused.

She kicked, her foot landing in the hay with a soft thud, missing his shin by an inch. He laughed under his breath. The one closest dropped to a crouch, eyes locked on her toes like they were treasure. His hand reached again, fingers sifting through the straw like he wanted to touch without scaring her off.

Kalestiya pulled back, trying to kick again, but another hand clamped around her thigh, not hard, but tight enough to hold. She yelped, twisting, knee striking out in panic. The man grunted and lost his grip for a second, and just enough. She tore free and stumbled backward, breath ragged, white dress stained with flecks of dirt and hay. Her chest rose and fell, feet shifting rapidly, the barn spinning slightly as panic threatened to take over.

They weren’t rushing her anymore, instead, they stood still, grinning, their eyes lingering on her feet.
They were waiting for her to run again…