alusion (because the world needed it)

Witch

Alucard visited him again after a bit of time with another injury.  Gusion, of course, helped him.  But then Alucard kept on appearing more and more frequently and, by the gods, Gusion could've sworn the man was hurting himself as an excuse to get close to Gusion.  The visits became more and more frequent until Alucard had had enough of injuring himself to just come to Gusion.  They had become friends and then more, private moments shared between them that know one else would know.  Gusion was helplessly in love with Alucard and just the other walking into his apothecary gave him feelings no damned spell or potion could ever give him.  He'd fallen for Alucard and, finally, he felt happy.  He felt safe.  Worries and fears slowly stopped consuming him every step he took, every breath he breathed, every place he went.  Love, oh, such an unreplicable emotion.  Alucard had turned into his world and Gusion would lay down his life for the other if he had to.

But that was the past.

That was a happy time.

Now?

"Penitence!  Criminal!  Witch scum!  Burn him!"

What lies had been spun about him?  Gusion refused to look down at the crowd, refused to look down and see the man he loved there staring at him with hurt and betrayal in his eyes.  He kept his chin up, tears welling in his eyes.

"Black witch!  Burn it!  For the Prince!  Bastard!"

Hundreds of voices screaming out at him.  Gusion was helpless, tied tightly to a wooden cross with ropes searing into his skin.  Below his feet were logs, logs that which would be burned to burn him.

A voice tried helplessly to rise against the crowd, the executioner.  "The man in front of you is accused of practicing witchcraft not only on the townsfolk but upon the Royal Prince himself!  The doctor is accused of tricking His Royal Highness Alucard with a potion of love for his own intents and was only stopped by the God-loyal work of our priests!"  A roar went up from the first few rows of onlookers, quickly picked up by the rest of the mob.  "His Royal Highness was cursed.."  The mob once again took over the voice of the executioner.

"Burn him!"

"Send him to hell where he belongs!"

"No god can save the bastard!"

It was too much, too much.  Gusion's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to blink away his tears.  "If my love was just a curse then I have only tears to shed!"  He screamed back out at the crowd, eyes finally falling back down at them.

Screams rose from the crowd.

"Curses!"

"It will curse us!"

"Burn the witch!"

Quickly fumbling, the executioner looked over at the gathering of priests, all but one who were praying, their holy books and religious icons clutched in hand.  The one not praying gave a nod, and the executioner grabbed a torch on fire before throwing it to the logs underneath Gusion.  A roar of approval ripped through the mob.

"Fools!  You've been fed lies!  I am innocent!"

The mob paid no mind to his screams of protest, his screams of truth.

"Penitence for your cries!  Penitence and your life!"

"Burn your way down to hell!"

"One less witch!"

"Let it light, then!  Let it burn out bright and choke on all your spite!"

"Burn!"

"Dirt!"

"Child of Lucifer!"

Gusion let his gaze travel the crowd again, his gaze finally falling on Alucard.  There was so much pain on the Prince's face, so much betrayal.  By the gods, Gusion wanted to rush over, assure him it wasn't true, assure him he never did anything wrong, tell him he wasn't a child of Lucifer.

The intensity of the heat rose and Gusion could feel it beneath his feet.  He blinked, tears falling freely and he tore his pleading gaze away from Alucard as he let his gaze turn back up to the dying sky, the sun no longer visible in the sky overhead as it made its way down the horizon.  Panic streamed through him--he didn't want to die.  Gods, he didn't want to die he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die.  But there was only one way out of this, only one way to escape these flames.  Black magic.  Something he'd sworn away to.  A sob racked his body and he let his head dropped, hanging low.  Flames were almost licking at his feet.  It would be easy, Gusion knew.  The dark witchcraft ran through his blood and he always refused it, refused to embody it.  Yet its call was always there and now it was a scream.

"Feel the weight of death!"

A scream was torn through Gusion's lungs, matching the scream of the dark witchery crying out for use inside of him.  He accepted it, let it run its course, surrendering to it in this moment.  A howling of wind struck the area, blowing at the crowd in front of him.  Gusion's scream ripped at his throat, a scream of agony and utter pain as the dark witchery ran through him.  A gust flew through the town center, forcefully blowing at the crowd, knocking down signs and barrels lining the street and, in the process, extinguishing the flames licking at his feet.  Gusion threw back his head, the back of it hitting the wooden cross as black, corrupted flames appeared and burned at the ropes binding him to the wooden atrocity.

Screams rose from the crowd, wanting him death.  They rushed forward but the striking wind appeared again, pushing them back.

Survive, survive, survive.

Animalistic instincts took over him and Gusion weakly stood up, going to turn around when a hand caught his shoulder, the executioner.  Something inside of him took over, and he turned to look at the executioner as a scream came from them as black fire started down his hand and travelling down their arm.  They yanked themselves off of him, screaming in pain as they did so.

Gusion turned and ran, vanishing into the nearby woods as the sun feel beneath the horizon.