To Each Their Own

As she stood in front of the body-length mirror in a wedding dress, Shamsiya felt like she was making a deal with the devil. She doubted this was what the orphanage matron meant when she said good women would be treasured by good men.

Her hands were stained with blood. Yes, the blood of vile creatures who reveled in the act of rape, but blood nonetheless. As a murderer, she was no longer a good woman, so it wasn't surprising that she was marrying the demon.

But whether it was a good man or a demon, Shamsiya realized she no longer cared.

After escaping the hands of death and spending a week inside a decadent cell, her perception of good and evil had already morphed. In that cell, she watched women get raped repeatedly without moving a muscle to help them. Her entire focus had been on herself and her safety.

She used her ability to protect herself, while ignoring the cries of plea. She poisoned and killed with a ruthless edge she never thought she had it in herself.

But most of all, she