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I’m now capable of, and I just need to figure out what they are so I can get out of here.
    “Let’s go,” he states angrily, snatching my arm and squeezing it.
    We continue walking down the vacant tunnel at a fast pace. I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed or infuriated about what just happened. The tunnel ceiling begins to lift, terminating in an enormous grand room. I inspect my surroundings, noting the drab concrete benches formed in a circle before me, where I assume the spectators must sit. In the middle is one conspicuously pretentious throne, draped in red velvet. What's the deal with evil men and velvet? In front of the throne, an outline of a square is drawn in chalk. I assume that’s where the guilty party waits for sentencing. Micah ventures further into the room and I find myself staring in awe at the magnificent ceiling. Gigantic, blood-drenched crystal spikes dangle like a chandelier, all sparkling in the orange illumination, courtesy of numerous lit torches on the walls. It’s a beautifully disturbing room, reminiscent of a more medieval era. Micah pulls on my arm, urging me to speed up. He stops abruptly at the square before pushing me to the ground.
    “On your knees,” he barks.
    Obeying him, I’m suddenly nervous as to what’s in store for me. My eyes dart around the room, panic-stricken and hesitant. My heart thuds in my chest at the very thought of meeting Lucifer. Micah stands behind me, both his knees nestled roughly into my back. I glower, thinking of how much I abhor him. How can he harbor such hate for me, yet want me just as strongly? Micah is the vilest anomaly. A stampede of sharp voices ricochets off the walls as a mixture of disgusting creatures and humans begin filling the concrete pews. A being with jerky movements and nearly transparent yellow skin catches my eye. The vampire slides into the room, clumsily making its way to an open seat on the bench. It stares right at me, filling me with dread.
    I drop my eyes, not wanting to appear more frightened than I already am. My heart pounds like a jackhammer, beating the inside of my ribs like Mike Tyson. An eight-foot tall, jacked up werewolf walks in next, gripping a shackle with its cumbersome claws. My eyes follow the chain’s trail, stopping on two petite women with steel collars spelled tightly around their necks. They are identical twins, both with glistening, blonde hair pouring down the centers of their backs. Their gray eyes narrow, nervously inspecting the room and its occupants in abject terror. The wolf stops, turning to them in displeasure. He places his large hands on both of their shoulders, shoving them forcibly against the wall. A small squeal escapes from one as they take their stances, and become still as statues. Four gray eyes lock onto mine.
    " Can you hear us?" two voices ask simultaneously.
    Out of instinct, I glance feverishly around the crowd, wondering to whom these voices belong to.
    “ Don’t be so obvious… over here,” one voice instructs.
    I crane my neck, resting my eyes on the twins.
    “Yes, we’re talking to you,” the other speaks, her eyes filled with expectation.
    “ I… Uh… yes,” I reply hesitantly. “Am I going crazy?”
    Elated giggles erupt, but their faces remain devoid of any emotion. “Can you hear me?” I question in my mind, hoping I’m not leisurely walking off the cliff of insanity.
    “ Yes, we can hear you. I’m Hannah… to your right… and this is Corrah… to your left , ” Hannah states without the slightest indication of movement.
    “ Hello!” Corrah exclaims.
    They sure seem bubbly, taking into account their dire situation. “Hello, I’m Anna.” They both gasp at the same time and I’m guessing what comes next.
    “ You’re her… the Witch … ”
    “ That’s me, the one and only,” I sigh. My name is starting to sound like an irritating slogan.
    “ Wow, we really didn’t think you existed,” Hannah replies glumly. “Micah talked about you all the