Is This the End?

Chapter Sixteen

Vanessa 

My feet are dragged along the cement floor, and no matter how much I struggle and scream, the men holding my body refuse to let me go. We come to a large wooden door, and I renew my efforts. There's something terrible behind there. I just know it.

The door is swung open, but that can't be right. I know what's behind that door. The blood. The weapons. That chair. They lead me to a long path crowded by people. I know them. One is the old lady that lives right below me. She would give me food when I was lying low. But now all she has is a deep scowl on her face. I stare too long, and I see her body engulfed by black flames and hear her high-pitched wails.

I blink, and it's all gone. I'm pulled forward until a pyre appears in the darkness. I attempt to run after the men release me from their hold, but two more just appear and carry me to the long pole impaling the ground. They shove me onto the pyre, and I can feel the sharp sticks cutting into my feet with their jagged edges. That man appears, smug, and content.

He turns to the crowd, and they're all screaming, yet I hear nothing but their chant: "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!" Over and over again. He brings a lit match over to the sticks, and I scream myself hoarse, but it does no good. "Burn the witch!" The match drops, and the flames lick at my feet, burning and burning. I'm soon engulfed. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to take one gulp of air.

My head breaks the water, and I look around, and just at the edge, I see Him again standing there without a care in the world. I swim away, but his men simply scoop me up. They drag me into the deep side and push my head under. "Burn the witch! Burn Vanessa!" A hand fists into my hair and yanks my head up.

He looks me over before giving the men a hand motion downward. I struggle, but it is in vain. I scream under the water, and black dots paint my vision. My lungs burn, and my head feels like I'm going to burst. "Oh poor Vanessa, she's an evil witch. Burn, witch, burn!"

The fingers enclose my hair once again, and I'm pulled toward the surface. I land in the chair, trying to breathe in all I can. I tilt my head back, and my exhaustion takes me. "Oh, don't tell me you're giving up already." He sighs and walks around me. "I guess Nate should have left you. After all, any witch can use flames, and that makes you useless. Everybody knows witches with no use get burned."

His nose is right by me, and soon he starts to make that obnoxious sound when people are trying to spit out mucus. I close my eyes fast enough to avoid spit getting into my eye, though I can still feel as it drips in thick glops down my face."Perhaps it's time for another lesson. Boys." Two of the figures come from the shadows holding a rope. I shake my head and try to push my seat back. No, this is worse than the whipping. The rope is now around my head. It's becoming tighter and tighter.

I felt like my head is being squeezed into a small cup. I shake, trying to loosen their hold, but it just makes it worse. I scream, and the world explodes in an inferno. The fire is all around me, and it's already taken my feet as a sacrifice, cripple, and behind repair. The flames are everywhere, and I let out a scream that ricochets and crumbles the walls to bits. Fire, there's fire everywhere.

I jerk awake, a scream at the tip of my tongue. I look around, and sweat breaks out across my forehead as I notice that Nate is nowhere to be found. I debate calling for him but decide against it and instead make my way to the door. I gently open it and peek my head outside to see a dimly lit hallway, but light shines in from the window. Damn, that makes things harder. I glance around and release my breath when I see no guards walking around.