The bogged

• The interior of the cabin is covered in a thick layer of algae and mud as if it’s stone walls where pulled straight from a muddy lake or a particularly fetid swamp ultimately the cabin is a place that feels long forgotten The iron door to the basement groans open. The air is foul and wet, so thick that you can almost feel it settle onto your skin in layers of grime

As you descend the final step, the form of the Princess comes into view. A bloated but somehow still very much alive body sitting cross legged in the slowly rising waters She looks up at you, the heavy collar around her neck squeaking loudly as she moves, the chains binding both her wrists to the far wall joining the pig-like chorus as she adjusts her hands in her lap *

Whatever you decide to do, now's your chance to do it.…but I won’t go down easily now

• she…isn’t the easiest to look at her dress and hair matted with off-brown sludge but at least she’s some kind of reprieve from the feted air *

After all I recognized that voice as easily as I recognized your nervous little footsteps coming down the stairs so ….Why don't you have a seat? The two of us should chat before you bury that thing in my heart…again