The Seventh Slave
The Seventh Slave The house was big and imposing, in fact she wouldn’t even call it a house, it was more like a mansion. The dark brick walls rose high up in the air, the shiny windows mirroring the swirling winter clouds, a drop of rain fell onto her cheek. She brushed it off and walked up the marble ramp, next to the stairs. A fluttering butterfly in her tummy as she stood in front of the big wooden doors. She rang the doorbell and a moment later both the heavy doors swung open and exposed a shiny marble hallway. It stretched out in front of her, there were doors and pillars and all the way in the back there were glass panels that looked out over the back garden. Behind her the wooden doors …