*HEY GUYS! SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. I WON'T BOTHER YOU GUYS WITH QUESTIONS THIS TIME SO YOU CAN GET RIGHT INTO THE CHAPTER. NOW, IT IS A FLASHBACK CHAPTER THIS TIME. THE LAST FLASHBACK CHAP WAS Chapter 30, FOR THOSE THAT WANT A RECAP. THIS WILL BE THE FINAL FLASHBACK CHAPTER BUT THE MAIN STORY IS STILL CONTINUING. DON'T GET CONFUSED! ANYWAY, ENJOY THE LONG AWAITED UPDATE! SEE YA IN THE NEXT ONE (hopefully won't take as long)!*
Stay Creepy, My Friends!~
Chapter 37
Autumn was dawning as the tree leaves gradually turned into shades of orange, red, yellow or brown by the day. The weather was also effected by the coming season as the air grew cooler and cooler. People garnered warmer clothing or stayed inside the comfort of their homes more often than if it were spring or summer. Trade was bustling about, businesses thriving with money. Under all of the smiling faces and socialization there was hysteria. Over the years the idea of witches within a land of God has spread and along with it, panic. It has spread throughout many colonies and it only grows worse. Now, people blame witches for everything. They believe the un-obedient women and young girls are spawns of the Devil himself. That the ones who are diverse from the rest are demons waiting to strike. In reality, they have no real power that spawns from evil. They are just people who were unfortunate enough to be chosen for another's irrelevant ridicule.
The air was cold and it blistered my dainty fingers. I pulled my brown, tattered cloak tighter around me, hoping I could salvage my warmth. My stomach growled, angry at me for having not eaten anything all day today. I bit my lip and hung my head lowly, waiting for my food to come. People walked past the alleyway I sat in, thinking I was just another poor rascal. That's what I prefer for them to think. I was tired and my body felt heavy. Finally, I heard a commotion of people shouting with surprise. I turned my head around and watched past my brunette hair. Men threw curses as their hats were thrown off of their heads or they tripped on nothing. Women shrieked as their dresses were upturned, revealing their bloomers. Children squealed with confused amusement as they watched the mayhem. A wagon was unhinged from its perch and began rolling astray. Men ran after it and I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. As this commotion played out, a burlap sack began sneakily making its way towards me. A wide smile came to lips as I awaited the bag to reach me. Once it was within range, I snatched it into my hands and hugged it close to my chest. I opened the bag and saw fruits, a loaf of bread, cheeses and a ceramic jar of water.
Apologies for not getting any meats. They ran out.
"This is perfect, Sam," I told my companion. I closed the bag and squealed with delight. I got up from my lonely spot and ran off before any of the citizens noticed me. My feet paddled against cobblestone until I felt dirt graze my skin, then grass. I ran a few more meters into the trees and then stopped when I felt I was safe from prying eyes. Without waiting another moment, I opened the bag, ripped off a piece of bread and took it into my mouth. Relief washed over my body and my stomach calmed itself as soon as I swallowed my bite. "Thank you, Sam," I sighed, then stuffed my mouth with a few grapes.
You're very welcome.
"You made quite a show out there," I remarked with a smirk.
It was entertaining, wasn't it?
"Did you have to toss up the women's dresses," I chuckled. I heard Sam laugh.
They might as well have not worn a dress at all. Such horrid fabric, I tell you.
I giggled. "I'm sure everyone is still pondering about the commotion."
'Twas nothing but the wind!
Sam cackled and so did I. I satisfied my hunger with a few more pieces of bread, cheese and a red apple, followed by a few sips of the water. Once my stomach was full, I closed the burlap sack and carried it over my shoulder. I began trekking to the forest, back towards the edge of town to find the place where I have kept my horse, Philip. My feet paddled against hard dirt. The soles of my feet have toughened up over the years. I've also become faster but I am small and not too capable of strength. Sam takes care of that occupation. I walked, the bag of food bumping into my back, another object tied to a string around my waist also bumped against my leg. A mask of mine.
I was closing in upon the place where Philip rested when I heard a small ruckus. Curiosity tempted me and won as I cautiously made my way towards the noise. I weaved my way through alleyways and found what was causing the noises. My brow furrowed as I glared at the scene of five children teasing a little girl. They danced about her in a taunting manner, whilst chanting, "She's a witch! She's a witch! Hang her up! She'll rot in a ditch!" The little girl was crouched down, cowering and on the verge of tears. "Please, stop," she whimpered, trembling. A little boy stepped out of the circle of hate and struck her down to the ground. "Shut up, witch!" He cackled and the other children laughed along with him. There was a red mark across the cowering girl's cheek and tears streamed down her face. One child grabbed her by her long, black hair and shoved her into a puddle of mud. Another little boy jumped on top of her, pushing her further into the mud and making her struggle for a good breath. All of the little ones laughed as they caused the cowering girl pain and humiliation. I looked around the area and found a few bit of people walking but none offered to stop this.
A growl reverberated deep in my throat and I muttered, "Sam, have those kids crying to their mothers."
My pleasure.
I could hear the deviousness behind his tone of voice and I watched as he went to work. There were barrels against buildings and they tipped over and rolled towards the children. All of them stopped picking on the cowering girl and starred. One little boy was brave enough to walk up to a barrel and kick it away. "Stupid thing," he grumbled before turning towards his peers. Suddenly, the contents of the barrel came shooting out, breaking the barrel into splinters. The contents turned out to be garbage. The rest of the barrels exploded as well, covering the other children in trash. They whined but it wasn't enough to get them scared. Sam could sense my dissatisfaction and tried something else.
A little girl screamed as her hair was pulled by nothing. She kept whining and clutching her head as her hair splayed around in the air. Some strands fell on her dress and she began to cry. A little boy yelped and jumped, rubbing his bum as if he was kicked. He jumped again, this time holding his shin with a grimace on his face. Another boy screamed in pain as his trousers were pulled taut up his bottom. The other child left was given the embarrassment of having his trousers pulled down to his ankles. The children caused a loud racket with their crying and screaming of surprise and pain. Finally, Sam got them running when he used an abandoned, trashed hay-man to chase the children. All of them screamed in terror at the flailing arms of the hay-man and they scurried off. Even the little boy with his trousers down ran without picking them up. It was amusing to see him run, trip, run, trip and run again.
The cowering girl sat in the mud with a look of bewilderment in her striking gray eyes. Mud was on her clothes and in her hair. The redness of crying still shaded her eyes but she let no more tears fall. She sniffled and stood to her feet, clutching her dress tightly. She turned towards the hay-man which still stood animated by Sam. I could see the tension in her body as she slowly approached it. The hay-man suddenly raised its arms and the girl reeled away. Before she could start running away too, the hay-man kneeled forward and wrapped its flimsy arms around her. She was still and then slowly wrapped her arms around the hay-man too. I smiled. "You're so cheesy," I remarked.
What can I say? Such children hold a place in my heart...
The hay-man let go of her and stalked away before falling over and lying still on the ground. The little girl stared at the figure until she reluctantly turned away to begin walking. As she turned, her gaze caught on me and I froze.
Bloody hell.
"Bloody hell, indeed," I murmured and quickly flitted away from her sight. My feet hit the ground rapidly as I bolted out of the alleyway and through more confusing paths. I stopped running once I ducked behind a corner and crouched low to the ground. I panted and rested my head against the wall behind me. My hands clenched as I berated myself. How stupid of me to let her see me. She'll tell people then those people will put the pieces together and know that the most notorious witch is camping within their colony. People will hunt for me and I will be forced to leave quicker than planned. Maybe she didn't think me suspicious. Maybe like everyone else she'll think of me as a poor rascal.
"Who are you?" I jumped in my spot as a quiet voice spoke to me. I turned to see the little girl again, gray eyes wide with curiosity. I bit my lip as I glared up at her. Then I stood to my feet and watched as her figure shrunk. A foot shorter than I. The little girl still stared at me, waiting for me to answer. I shouldn't give her one. I should just run away again and find Philip so we can leave. But, something about the way she looked at me made me choose otherwise.
"I'm just a poor girl," I muttered, pulling my cloak against me.
"You were the one that scared those other children, weren't you," she said.
I looked away and said nothing. She stepped closer and whispered, "You're a witch...? A real one...?"
Well, isn't she quick minded.
My eyes cast towards her small frame again and I said, "I am. Do you despise them like everyone else?" She shook her head. She was not hesitant. Her eyes shifted towards my hips, at the mask that hung there. She blinked and I pulled my cloak over it. Her eyes widened at me and I put a finger to my lips, shushing softly. I heard her gulp before she nodded. There was now a tinge of fear in her eyes. I guess even the little ones know about my actions. "Thank you," she said suddenly, "for saving me from those mean children."
"Why did they hurt you," I asked her at random. Her eyes were now sullen as she looked down at her dainty hands that picked at her dirty dress. "They think I'm a witch," she answered.
"Is there a reason for them to make such accusations," I questioned further.
Her black hair fell in her face. "I told them about seeing my dead mother. After that they have been labeling me as a witch and bullying me."
"Did you truly see your mother?"
She nodded her head and made eye-contact with me again. "She glowed like a light," she answered. I looked into her eyes and could sense the unnatural aura behind them. She is capable of seeing the deceased. And here I thought all "witches" do not hold any sort of supernatural power. I suppose most of them are normal people.
"Do you believe you are a witch? Truly believe?," I asked her. She thought about the question for a few moments. "No," she answered, "I do not think so."
"Then those children are wrong and stupid," I stated.
"But, I-."
"You are not something unless you truly believe you are that something," I stated.
She was silent for a moment. "Do you believe you are a witch?" she asked. I furrowed my brow and thought. Do I believe so? All of my life I have been labeled as a witch but do I believe in that label? I cannot say for sure. There is no reason for me to believe but no reason for me not to. "I don't know," I answered, honestly. I could see the little girl wasn't expecting that answer. I looked around quickly and frowned. "You should go," I ordered, "people will see us together and more trouble will come your way."
"Where will you go?" she asked quietly.
I stared off. "Somewhere," was my answer, before I lead her out of the alley and pushed her on her way. She turned her head to glance at me again and she whispered, "I won't tell anyone." I nodded and watched as she ran off, back to where she was. Until she was out of sight, I released a breath and let the tension from my shoulders fade. I looked up at the sky and watched as the blueness was slowly fading into purple. I will have to leave now before it gets too dark for me to find camp.
I ran off again and made it towards the outskirts of the colony. The sun was now setting into the horizon. I looked at my surroundings and remembered the landmarks I used for reference to guide me back to camp. I spotted a lone flower sprouting in the grass and walked west of it. I kept my footsteps quiet as to not alert anything unwanted. I found a grove of trees and felt my hands on the bark of one tree. Four scratches, made by Sam and I. Relief began soothing me as I walked past the tree and heard the familiar snort of a horse. A smile came upon my lips and I hurried forward. Standing at the front of a small abandoned shack was Philip. Despite the dimness, I could still see his glorious tawny mane and hide. I walked up to him and gently brushed his neck. His black eyes looked about casually. I reached into my burlap sack and pulled out an apple for him to feed on. The horse ate the whole thing sooner than I could blink.
I checked the reins that I tied to a tree to see if they were still secure. When I was assured that they were, I walked to the shack and entered. The air was musty but it was tolerable for now. I will be leaving this place behind soon so there is no need to fuss over the poor condition of this shack. Sitting in one corner was a raggedy cot made of random cloths I picked up from the town. That was all that occupied the shack. Everything else was empty and devoid of design. There were two small windows that filtered light into the room but it was now dark for the evening is set. I sat down on the cot and pulled the jar of water from my bag along with bread pieces that I tore away. I ate them calmly to fill myself up more and drank rationally. Once I was done for now, I placed whatever was left back inside the bag and closed it. I set it down next to my head as I lay down on the cot, preparing for sleep.
Two days left, Emily...
I stared up at the window above my cot, catching sight of the moon. "I know," I murmured. "Soon we will run again.."
One less colony down.
"And many more to follow," I added. I pulled the cloak against me, making it act as my blanket against the cold air of night that will seep in through the shack's cracked walls. Two more days. Only two. Soon no one will be left to remember this place.
...
The meadow was bright with the colors of spring flowers. I lay comfortably, with my head elevated upon the lap of a beautiful woman. I looked up at her sweet face, at her radiant chocolate skin and I felt at ease. She brushed my hair back with gentle, nimble fingers and she would braid it expertly. I loved her braids. They made me look mature, like a true lady. Up ahead I saw a man with a horse. The horse fed on the grass it walked on and the man stood by it contently. The man turned and looked at us, then gave a friendly wave. The smile on his dark face showed wisdom, kindness and love. The horse raised its head and suddenly nabbed the man's farmers hat in its teeth. The man yelped and struggled to yank the hat out of the horse's mouth, creating an entertaining scene for the lady and I to giggle at. I turned to my left and spotted another man. He sat casually on a wooden chair, reading a book. There was a suave air about him. His clothes were neat and his facial hair was kept. He looked at me over his spectacles and cocked an eyebrow. I smiled at him. He said no words and he shifted his glasses up his nose instead. Despite his response, I knew he enjoyed my smile.
Everything was tranquil and I reveled in this feeling of security. Though, something felt missing. I sat up straight and the black woman stopped petting my hair. The black man finally got his hat back from the horse's jaws and chuckled heartily. The other man sitting on the chair turned a page of his book and cleared his throat. Things felt normal. That was it. It's normal. It wasn't always like this, was it? There is no possibility that anything could ever be this normal. I stared off into the horizon and watched the grass dance with the wind. I waited for something else, something that put much meaning in my life. When nothing came, I focused on what it was. The wind began to pick up, tossing the grass and flowers in the meadow every which way. The sky grew duller with every passing moment. This didn't stop me from focusing on what was missing, on what could complete my life. Finally, as the sun faded behind the graying clouds and the wind tossed my hair, I figured out what was missing.
"Sam?"
There was a loud flash followed by the clash of thunder. My vision was foiled and over the thundering I heard screams and shouts of fear and anger. Musket fire. Three shots. Three lives taken. And when the lightning subsided I was left alone on a barren wasteland of what used to be a gorgeous meadow. Only one thing stood tall in the horizon. A large, wooden pole. The wind still blew and carried with it the putrid scent of ash and rot. Faintly I could hear whispers. I looked around but saw no other life. I turned back to see the wooden pole and the whispers grew louder. It took me a few moments to realize that, surprisingly enough, the wooden pole was calling to me. It whispered my name in such a persuading manner. I couldn't help myself as I stood to my feet and followed the whispers.
Black mud covered my feet and dirtied the hem of my dress. I would've been disgusted with it but my mind was too entranced by the whispers to care. With every step I grew closer to the tall wooden pole. The whispers grew louder and louder, beckoning me forth into something unknown to me. The wooden pole was now a foot in front of me, standing tall and sturdy despite the instability of the land around me. The whispers called my name and overlapped with each other until it was nothing but incoherent gibberish. I looked down and found my hand reaching for the wooden pole. I hadn't known I was doing this and I realized it wasn't by my own conscious will. I tried to pull it down but my hand kept moving forth. Just as my fingers were close to touching the surface of the wooden pole, another clap of thunder erupted followed by a bright flash of lightning. When the light subsided I found that the wooden pole was gone and replaced with something else. It was pure black. I stepped back and looked up only to see whiteness. For a moment I thought lightning filled the sky again but I was wrong. This wasn't a wooden pole anymore and it surely wasn't a source of light. It was something unknown. It has no eyes yet sees all. It has no mouth yet beckons like a siren. It has no nose but it can smell my fear. It has nothing yet is anything and everything.
My heart pounded against my chest wildly, and my breathing was shallow. I stared at the thing for a few moments until it leaned away from me. It was surprisingly tall and its black clothes cast a grim air about it. It opened its black coat and pulled out a bundle of sheets. I stared at the sheets, wondering why it would have those. The creature leaned down and handed the bundle of sheets to me. I gingerly took it within my arms. Suddenly, something twitched from within it and I flinched. I looked at the tall creature and saw it standing still. There was no way for me to indicate what could happen. I gulped down my nervousness and unwrapped the sheets. To my shock I found the small face of a baby. It blinked at me, emerald eyes shining with new life. They looked just like mine.
White, bony hands reached down and wrapped the baby up again. I watched as the creature carried the bundle in its arms. I stared at its blank face and there was a strong aura around it now. A stinging sensation struck the nape of my neck but I didn't reach to touch it. Instead I watched as black tendrils slithered out from behind the creature and danced about like ribbon in the wind. It was an entrancing and graceful sight. Suddenly, a loud buzzing rattled my head and the tendrils stiffened abruptly. A gasp escaped me as they dived towards my head. I didn't even have time to scream.
...
I awoke with my heart pounding and my breath unstable. Sunlight poured into the shack, illuminating the small room and presenting the dust and garbage that stayed behind for years. Once I calmed down, I turned towards my burlap sack of food. It was still intact. I opened the bag and gave a sigh of relief to see that no insects had crawled in and eaten away at my food. I ate a ripe pear and the only hunk of cheese left. I finished my breakfast with a few sips of water and then closed the bag. I stood from the makeshift cot and slung the bag over my shoulder.
Rough sleep?
I nodded and stretched. "Hopefully it does not affect me too much," I remarked, before leaving the shack. Philip stood outside again and was awake to greet me with a snort. "Good morning, boy," I said as I stroked his shining mane. He bumped his head against mine and I chuckled. I pet him one more time before I began trekking back to the nearby town. "We will have to get some horse feed for Philip," I said.
I will remind you when the chance arrises.
"Thank you, Sam," I responded, "It seems like there might be another ruckus today, yes? I hope it doesn't seem too suspicious."
I will try to be more stealthy this time.
"That would be nice."
After a few minutes of walking, the colony came up ahead. I kept to the alleys and shadows and watched the people of this town hard at work. Merchants shouted promising deals for the items they have in stock. Butchers sliced dead animals and demonstrated their techniques to making the finest meats. Priests preached of the word of God and of religion. Their words of Heaven and Hell and good and evil made me cringe. Those who believe in God may enter his kingdom, he said. Sinners burn in Hell, he stated. Witches are the Devil's bastards, he preached. All must be eradicated, etcetera, etcetera, the whole lot of what I despise. "How crude," I muttered under my breath as I kept walking.
I turned a lonely corner and suddenly came upon a small commotion. I would have gladly ignored it and walked right past but this was different. It wasn't a blunder of just townspeople. There were constables. I quickly hid behind the wall and watched carefully. There were three officers who argued with someone. Two townspeople stood and listened while two children stood by them. I recognized the two children as those from the bunch Sam had handled yesterday. My heart pounded nervously. Something has happened and it must have something to do with me.
I tried getting a better look at whomever the constables spoke to. Finally, one of them moved enough for me to see a pasty looking girl with long black hair. I restrained a gasp as I recognized it to be the girl Sam and I saved from those terrible children. My feeling of anticipation grew. I listened intently at the conversation they were having.
"Young lady," one constable scolded, "These children confess that you committed an act of witchery yesterday. Is this true?"
The little girl shook her head. "I-I didn't."
"Then how may their stories of 'exploding barrels' and a 'walking hay-man' be explained," a second constable inquired.
Her body was jittery as her gaze shifted between the three officers. "I-I don't know."
The third constable added, "These children also state that you have been associated with the supernatural before. Is it true that you saw your deceased mother?"
"Well, yes..."
"Then you must be the cause of the happenings of yesterday," the third constable said.
"I'm not," the little girl argued shakily, "It wasn't my fault!"
"Lying will get you no where, young lady," the first constable said. "You know what the punishment is."
"I swear I didn't do it!!" She seemed close to tears.
"Then who did?," the second constable asked.
The little girl quivered as they all waited for her explanation. I frowned, knowing what would happen next. I would wish for her not to reveal my identity but what would be the use? She's only a little girl. She deserves a chance to survive, more so than anyone. "There was a hooded girl yesterday," she started and I clenched my jaw. The constables said nothing and waited for her to continue. That she did. "I have never seen her before. When I spotted her, she ran away. Then I followed her."
"What happened next," the second constable asked. The little girl dug her shoe into the dirt below her. "She didn't say much. But I found out that she was the one who scared the other children away. She saved me."
"Do you know what she looks like," the third constable questioned.
The little girl thought. "She had brown hair and green eyes. She was white. Her clothes were tattered, like a rascal."
"Might you know her name," the first constable asked. The little girl thought again and I could see the look in her eyes. She did have more to say and it's likely she wanted to tell the officers of my mask. She knows what I've done. She knows who I am. My name is unforgettable.
"I don't think I know her name," the little girl stated. I gaped at her. She...lied? The constables shared glances. "Are you sure," the second officer asked. The little girl nodded. Suddenly one of the children, a little boy, blurted, "She's lying! She's a filthy witch! It's what they do!" One of the townspeople hushed them. The little girl did not react to the outburst. The constables, however, took it into consideration. "Are you lying," the third constable questioned, his tone of voice harder than before. The little girl reeled back and shook her head, black locks of hair falling across her face. The nervousness in her gaze was too obvious. The constables saw this.
The first constable said, "You should not lie. Because if you are then we will have no choice but to punish you."
"I-I'm not!" She began to shake. No one pitied her fragility.
"Young lady," the third constable started, "We know when someone is lying, especially little children."
"I-I.." Her eyes watered.
I silently pleaded for her to say nothing and keep my identity a secret. Unfortunately, the situation became too much for her. She panicked and buckled under the pressure. "Sh-She had a red and white mask," she stammered, "It was the girl who destroyed those two colonies! E-Emily Mason!"
Crap.
I couldn't agree with Sam any more. Immediately the air grew tense. The horror was present on everyone's face, even the children's. The little girl was now crying and hiding her face from the eyes around her. I sighed and looked upon this scene sympathetically. Finally the shock subsided from the constables. The first one cleared his throat and adjusted his uniform. "Emily Mason, you say?," His voice shook slightly. The little girl nodded guiltily. The constables shared glances again and this time I saw the knowing look in their eyes.
"Search the colony," the first constable ordered, "Look in every crevice! If Emily Mason is here then we must find her and execute her!"
The two other constables nodded but faltered. "What of the little girl," the third officer asked. They all looked to the little, trembling girl. She looked at them with big eyes and the fear was prominent. My mind was screaming at them to leave her alone. She doesn't deserve this. This is not her fault. "Please don't do anything," I whispered quietly.
"Take her," the first constable ordered, "She will be punished along with Emily Mason."
"Wh-What?! No! NO!!" The little girl tried running away but the second constable caught her by her small waist and carried her away. She thrashed and screamed, pleading to be let go, to live.
The constables were coming my way so I quickly moved away from the wall I hid behind. I backed away but I bumped into something. "Watch your step, rascal," a man's voice scolded sharply. I looked up expecting to see a regular townsman but instead I saw the face and uniform of another constable. My eyes widened and my heart pounded faster and harder. My mind went blank for a moment until...
Run!!!
And so I did. I sprinted away from the new constable and tried to keep to the shadows again. Two constables began chasing after me and were relentless about it. I was faster though but they were mules.
We won't lose them like this, Emily!
"Then what do you suggest," I panted.
Run into the open.
"What? Are you insane?!"
Trust me! I have a plan.
I wanted to protest against his idea but as I thought about the men chasing me I had no choice but to obey. I turned sharply and exited an alley, running out into the open. People stared at me but I gave them no time to analyze as I immediately bolted into a crowd. People cursed at me and yelped as I slipped past bodies. Soon I heard shouting and turned briefly to see the constables shoving their way through instead. Of course, no one took this too kindly and some shoved back, stalling their chase for me. I swiftly ran past more people until I came upon the merchant trail. Townspeople lined up at merchant booths and sellers boasted their items' values. I dived right into the crowds and kept going. I managed to make it to the side and I put my back against a wall. "What now," I panted, scanning the area for signs of the constables. I heard cries of surprise, there was a short ruckus. Suddenly a cloak floated low at my feet.
Put this on.
I did as Sam told me to and exchanged my current cloak for the new one. It was clean and comfortable, unlike the other which was tattered and old. The new cloak was a different color this time. I understood what Sam intended and hooded myself. The old cloak was taken from me and I watched as it slowly floated towards a merchant booth. It sneakily draped over a tall rack for holding clothing. As I stared at it, I noticed how it resembled a standing figure. A smile played across my lips and I found a hiding spot to watch from. Soon enough the constables came into sight again after handling angered civilians. They looked about the area and their eyes spotted my tattered cloak. The bait worked and they ran and grabbed the cloak, only to find the clothing rack and an angered merchant. They were both dumbfounded. I smiled and ran in the opposite direction of the officers. "I cannot believe that worked," I chuckled as I swiftly hurried through more crowds.
I told you I had a plan.
"Don't get too excited," I said, "we're not done yet."
Right. Start heading for cover and lose them.
"Will do," I responded and turned a corner into an alley. Suddenly I was harshly grabbed and I yelped in surprise. I looked up and found the face of a constable. I gasped and attempted to yank myself out of his grip. "You're under arrest, witch," he bellowed.
"Not today," I shouted. I ducked just in time before a projectile barrel came crashing against the constable. He let go of me and I started running off again. I was just about to thank Sam when I ran into the rest of the constables. I tried turning back but I was blocked by the one whom Sam had hit. They all surrounded me and I grit my teeth with aggravation. Townspeople watched the scene with curious, even nervous, gazes. "Sam, we have to do something," I hissed.
Get your knife.
I did as he said and pulled out my blade from a secret pocket in my dress. Sam had given it to me as soon as we arrived to the first colony we had destroyed, months ago. He said I would need it, despite being with me. I watched the constables and gave them wild looks. I snatched my mask from my makeshift rope belt and slipped it over my face. It fit perfectly. Immediately everyone reacted and there was an uproar of panic and anger. "It's her! It's the witch!" they cry.
"Get her on the stake!"
"Stone her!"
"Drag her to the gallows!"
Their voices gave me such a headache but I would have to bear with it. I watched the constables around me, slowly turning to glance at each one. One of them attempted to grab me from behind but I quickly spun around and slashed at his arm. Soon there was a long, red wound along his forearm. Another tried to tackle me but I flipped the knife in my hand and stabbed him in his leg. He screamed right into my ear but I kicked him away. "It seems we might have to leave earlier than planned," I remarked.
Sam didn't get to respond for he busied himself by catching whatever stones the townspeople threw at me. He took the opportunity to throwing them right back. No one took too kindly to this. The crowd around me began pushing in towards me. Angry faces surrounded me and I shrunk away, trying to find a way past all of the bodies. "Sam," I hissed.
People were mysteriously shoved away, bringing more with them. But it wasn't enough. I threatened some people with the knife and I had to slice at someone at some point. This enraged the crowd and soon I felt hands grab me. I screamed and kicked at those who grabbed me only to be interrupted by more hands. My knife was taken away and I was sent off of my feet. I could see the knife leave the hands of who took it and it began cutting people. I was dropped when the knife stabbed into the many hands that clawed at me. I was close to crawling away and slipping past everyone's legs when there was a loud boom of gunfire. Everyone gradually stopped their commotion, leaving me unattended and alone in a small, empty space. The knife Sam held was still raised and covered with blood. I could hear weeping, possibly from those who were wounded by him.
Past the wall of people around me, some were pushed aside. An opening came up and someone slipped through. It was a man. Tall, white, black hair. I could immediately tell he was of a higher class than those around me. His clothes signified that he was a man of power, or of at least excellent fashion. But it wasn't his clothes that unsettled me, it was his aura. It reeked of malevolence. When I looked into his eyes I could see there was a fire in them. There could have been because his irises were so unnaturally red. The way he looked down at me made me want to crawl into a hole and stay there for eternity.
This man looked at the knife in the air and gently pushed it out of the way. I heard Sam gasp in my head and he let the weapon go. I could feel myself sweating nervously, wondering why he gasped like that. The man walked closer to me, with a confident gait that of a lord. He loomed over me and his eyes seemed to flare. "You," I flinched at how deep and powerful his voice was, "you will come with me."
"Kill her!" People shouted. More voices began to rise but the man ceased it all with one simple gesture of his hand. He never turned his gaze away from me. "You will come with me, Emily Mason. I have some questions I would like answered."
"For what?" I growled.
"For research." He was so straightforward. The man held out his hand for me to take.
Emily, don't. Just run!
I looked around for an opening within the wall of people.
"Even if you manage to slip through these citizens, there is a line of gunmen afterwards that are very quick with a bullet," the man stated, "You won't have any time to blink."
Just run Emily! I'll stop whoever tries to attack you.
I stared into the fiery eyes of this stranger. His aura suffocated me and I could feel this sense of fragility within me. Despite that I wanted to fight back, as Sam said to do, a part of me argued otherwise. I'm surrounded by the whole town. I am disarmed. Sam cannot handle so many people at once. We barely pulled through just now. I want to believe we will make it out of this and send this town to the ground, like the other two. I want to believe we will extinguish many more and bring the punishment society deserves. In reality, even if we accomplish that goal, we will not be happy. We will still have no place in this world. We will still be devastated by our past. We will be criminals; monsters. Nothing will be the same nor will it be different. I used to be tired of running away yet I still do so. I've gone on long enough.
I slap the man's hand away, which had people muttering insults, but I stand up by myself. I stare at him for a few moments, before removing the mask I made with my own hands, and I reveal my face to the man. He looks at me but does not react whatsoever, even as I glare at him distastefully. Wordlessly, he turned and a pathway was made through the wall of townspeople. He began walking and I followed him. I expected someone to lash out at me but nothing came, not even an insult.
What are you doing?
I tightened my jaw and looked forward with a hard gaze. Sam said nothing about my refusal to respond. I had a feeling that he was upset now. Even so, I still followed the strange man until we came to a waiting carriage. The man gestured for me to go inside but I was hesitant. We stared at each other for a moment before I step inside. Immediately I was turned around and my hands were tied behind my back.
Emily!
"Don't do anything," I hissed. I was shoved into a seat and I saw an officer in front of me. From the way he wasn't being attacked by anything, Sam did as I said. I frowned at the officer then turned to watch the strange man enter the carriage. He ordered for it to move and the entire vehicle jerked. I nearly fell out of my spot but I sat up right once the carriage was moving steadily. I looked to the strange man and watched him light a cigar with a matchstick. He put the match box into his coat and blew a puff of smoke past his lips. His eyes darted towards me and I restrained the urge to look away. His eyes still unsettled me. As if something evil lurked behind them, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
"Gaines."
I furrowed my brow. "Excuse me?"
"Gaines. That's what you may call me," the man said. He turned his attention away from me and I figured we were done talking for now. The ride was a quiet and long one. The constable watched me intently and the man named Gaines did nothing but smoke his cigar. The accumulating smoke had me coughing every now and then. I counted the minutes in my head and found that the carriage stopped after fifteen minutes. The constable opened the door and Gaines stepped out. I got up but was held by the constable and he practically shoved me out. "Treat a girl kindly, sir," Gaines remarked.
The constable grimaced. "This is no girl, sir. She's nothing but a filthy witch! The worst of them all."
Gaines blew some smoke. "If she's the worst than you should be careful not to anger her." He turned and walked towards the entrance of a building. The constable led me towards it as well and I noticed that his grip on me was softer. We entered the building and it seemed to be a sort of town hall, judging by the elaborate decor. Gaines walked down a short hall and entered a room to the right. The constable led me into the room and I was positioned by a chair. The officer was about to leave when Gaines said, "Remove the rope."
The constable frowned. "But, sir.-"
"Remove them." Gaines gaze was sharp. His eyes flared with authority and dominance. Without further protest, the constable untied me and I quickly moved to massage my red wrists. The constable left the room, closing the door behind him. It was just Gaines and I now. Between us was a desk and there were chairs on either side. Gaines graciously took a seat whilst putting out his cigar on an ashtray. He gestured for me to sit but I was hesitant.
Emily, I don't like this. We have to leave.
"Please, be patient," I murmured.
"Who are you talking to," Gaines asked me. I looked to his regal figure and blinked. Then I shook my head. I took a seat without answering Gaines' question. The cushion was hard yet comfortable. Something I've never gotten the chance to experience. The temptation to lay back against it was pushed aside by my caution. I looked at the desk in front of me and found an ashtray, a small ink jar and a given writing feather. I didn't have to wonder why there were writing tools as Gaines pulled out a small booklet from his coat pocket. He looked at me with those eyes and I tried not to flinch.
"I will be asking you some questions, Emily, and I hope you will be inclined to answer them," he stated.
I frowned. "Why are you interrogating me?"
"For research," he responded, "to tell a story for the archives, yes? Surely your existence cannot cease until I've gathered information about you. You are the most notorious youth throughout the country. In England, too."
"But I've never been."
"Word gets out fast, especially with print and press." Gaines grabbed the writing feather and dipped it into the ink pot. I watched his movements."What makes you think I will answer your questions," I remarked.
He looked at me. "It is just you and I in this room, Emily. What threat am I to you? I hold no weapons. I am here only to take notes. You are safe in here with me, until we finish talking and the constable comes in to take you. With that in mind, I would suggest you tell me as much as you can. Once that door opens again, you might as well be dead already."
I glared at the man. Sadly, he is right. Sitting here, I am away from the discrimination. There is no ultimate threat here. It is only this man and I, as he said. This intimidating, fiery-eyed man whom makes me feel sick. He is more intimidating than Father ever was.
"What is your first question," I asked. For a moment, I thought I spotted a smile on Gaines' lips. "How old are you," he started.
"Thirteen."
He scribbled the writing feather's tip across the paper of the small book. "How long have you had supernatural abilities?"
"I discovered them at the age of four."
He scribbled again. Stopped. "How?"
I thought back to the time Sam first spoke to me, to the time I discovered his existence. The memory made me feel warm. I longed for such a time again. "I was playing in the forest one afternoon. I climbed a tree for fun. The branch I sat on began to crack and it gave out. I would have broken my legs if I had not stopped a foot above the ground. Nothing snagged on my clothes. I was just floating there. Then I met a special friend.." I waited for Sam to say something, to tell me not to mention him or to just stop talking altogether. He said nothing.
Gaines wrote as I spoke and he asked, "What special friend?"
I bit my lip, trying to figure out a way to explain Sam, but it was tedious. "I don't know what he is exactly. I'm not sure how he came about. His name is Samuel. He speaks to me but no one else can hear him. He can move things as well. No one can see him."
"Is he the reason for the 'witch' accusations," Gaines asked.
I frowned. "Do not consider such a thing," I muttered. "He is not at fault."
"Well, it would only makes sense-."
Something cracked and the both of us looked to the ashtray on the desk. It was broken in half, spilling cigar ashes across the polished wood. "You've upset him," I growled. Gaines did not look apologetic.
"Let's skip this topic then," Gaines suggested, "You have lived with the label of a witch for ten years, it seems. How could you have lived that way for so long?"
My fingers twitched at my dress, picking the ruffles. I still held a frown. "My father protected me. We always ran from the angry mobs."
"What about your mother?"
"She died long ago," I answered immediately. "She hemorrhaged to death during labor. My father told me she was gone before I was bundled in a cloth."
Gaines fiddled with the writing feather. "That's...unfortunate."
"I suppose," I mumbled. "I never got to see her so she doesn't hold much significance. My father would tell me about her but even then she was foreign to me. Though, sometimes I would wish for her to have survived."
Gaines scribbled notes in the book. There was a pause of silence. "Where is your father now?"
My hands clenched my dress, I could feel my nails pressing my palm through the fabric. "He's gone too. We were on our way to a new home after losing one to angered townspeople. Along the way we ran into a group of bandits. They figured out our identities and tried to capture us for a profit. One of them caught my father and I escaped without him. There was a gunshot... I never found out who took the bullet. After that I was lost in the forest."
Gaines wrote down his notes and I waited for him to finish. The only sounds in the room were the feather tip scratching over paper. "How old were you when this happened?"
I thought back to the time when I lost Father. "I was only eight-years-old."
"So you have been without your father for about five years. How were you able to survive without him?"
My mind thought back on the dream I had last night. Of the two black people. Sweet memories of their love for me came rushing back to me. It was hard to keep the tears from stinging my eyes. "I ran into a farmer in the woods. I was hurt and he offered his and his wife's aid. After that day I lived with them for nine months or so. They cared for me and kept me safe. Sam and I were happy. But..."
"But, what?"
My fists felt hot at the memory of what happened to them, of what I never did to help them. I was weak. "This group of men came with muskets. They were searching for me so that I would be executed. Those men shot them and left me orphaned again." My voice trembled with rage.
"Why would those men kill them? Why not try them?," Gaines asked as he scribbled notes.
A pause of silence reigned the room. I glared down at the desk. "They were black." Gaines stopped writing. I continued, "The men said they had no right for a trail. That they were better off dead."
Gaines did not ask another question right away. He was quiet for a few moments which allowed me time to calm down.
Emily, I don't think you should talk any further.
"What choice do I have," I whispered.
We can run. I can break the door and you can leave. I'll thwart anyone who pursues.
I shook my head slowly. Sam said nothing else. Gaines cleared his throat and rested his head in one hand. "What were their names?" Thinking about their names made my heart ache with grief. It has been about three years since that time but even now I can weep in mourning. "Ruth and Frederick Johnson," I answered lugubriously. Gaines took notes, turned a page, then kept writing.
"Going to the topic of your crimes," Gaines began, "what was your motive for such actions?"
I returned my gaze to Gaines and stared right into his unsettling eyes. There was a chill along my back. "My motive was revenge," I stated strongly, "Revenge for everything society ever did to my loved ones and I. They made me suffer throughout my life. When those men killed Ruth and Frederick, I murdered them. Then I destroyed their colony and everyone in it. I ruined their weapons, their methods of transportation, anything that would help them survive and then I burned everything to the ground. That was the first colony I destroyed. After that I traveled again, to the next colony. I waited for the right time to strike. That colony went down in flames and I slaughtered its residents. Yes, even the younglings. Everyone." I paused, restrained a creeping grin. "There was one moment that I remember clearly. I cornered a man and he prayed to God," -I stifle a wry laugh- ,"he was so miserable looking. Sobbing, tears and snot on his face. Utterly pathetic. His prayers, though, sickened me more. Do you know what I did?" Gaines didn't answer and I didn't give him enough time to. "I told him 'Your town is burning, your family is dead. You're praying and cowering while I'm here standing. I am not leaving. You keep praying but the situation is the same. So, where is your fucking God?' Sam killed him after that. The both of us moved on."
Gaines stared at me with an intrigued look when I expected horror. He almost looked amused. He scrawled more notes in his little book and turned another page. "How do you feel with being a...witch," Gaines asked.
I hardened my gaze and straightened myself in my seat. "I'm not sure how to answer that question," I started calmly. "Nowadays a witch is anything or everything. It's hard to know what is the real definition or a false example. The word witch is altogether ridiculous. I don't understand society. What is a witch?" I looked to Gaines, as if expecting him to answer when that was not my intention. He stayed silent and listening. I continued on. "A harlot? A perfidious wife? A mother of three? A disabled? A random girl taking a stroll through the summer day? A witch isn't a person of black magic anymore. It's an excuse. A stupid excuse for stupid people. What they don't understand is ultimately labeled as supernatural or evil. People take the life of another human being because they are scared and too cowardly to try and understand why they are the way they are. They kill, hoping to eradicate evil when in reality they are the true evil! They are the monsters! They are the witches that corrupt this world! This is apparently God's world. Ha, if it is then he must be the devil everyone fears. Strange how they despise against the Devil when, in the eyes of others, they worship one. Now, I'd ask myself this, if that is so, then who is God? The true God? I say there isn't one. If there was, then he would've done what was best for the world. He would've killed us all. Or she. Who knows? All there is to know is that we are here, corrupting, cursing, killing, thriving. So, I will ask again, what is a witch? But, there is no answer to that. I have no answer, no matter what arguments are made to persuade me."
Gaines bright, fiery eyes bore into me with an intensity but they clashed against the smile he tried to hide behind his hand. It was strange to see and it felt wrong. He seemed satisfied with my words despite that there was no real answer to his question. He wrote down some notes, dipped the feather in ink again when it ran out and flipped for another empty page. I watched his hand at work until he stopped and I directed my gaze back to his eyes. He cleared his throat again and his placid demeanor returned. "Do you regret the choices you have made in life and the crimes you have committed?"
This I had an answer for. I turned my eyes down, staring with a forlorn yet hard expression at the desk. My hands clenched tighter again and my shoulders tensed up. "No," I stated firmly. There was silence in the room. A bird chirped outside of the window a few feet away from me. Then I heard the rapid flapping of wings and I knew it flew away. "I do not regret what I have done," I added, "I was willing to exact my revenge against society for harassing my loved ones and I. I wanted people to feel the pain I felt for nine whole years. Feeling hunted down, hopeless, weak, alone. They took my happiness away, my childhood, everything. For that I took their lives. And I enjoyed it. Watching them suffer, I mean. If I cannot find my happiness in other things then I will find it in their screams and pleads." My intense demeanor gave way for sadness and guilt. "Though I must say, one thing that could have me regret what I have done would be my loved ones. As much as Father despised society, he never wanted to make them pay. That would've made us as low as them. I'm sure he would be disappointed in me. Ruth and Frederick never believed in violence. Even though the world was against them for being different, they never struck back yet did not feign ignorance. They stayed strong. They must be shaking their heads at me somewhere in whatever afterlife they believed so much in. Even though they are my loved ones, I will not seek redemption. I am no longer worthy of it. I am a criminal; a thief, a murderer, a manipulator, a sinner, a monster. I have even debauched my dear friend, my only friend, Sam, into using his abilities for heinous actions. I have killed thousands of people; men, women, children, families. The good people. The bad people. The unwanted. The worthy. I even killed my own mother. Her life for mine. She birthed a demon and should be ashamed. I would be. All I have done is bring misfortune unto the lives of others when I despised such lowly acts myself. I am a hypocrite. My purpose in life is nothing. What is there for me to regret if I am nothing? I won't refuse to take responsibility for what I have done, the lives I have taken, the blood on my hands, the life I have lived. I do not regret. Never, will I regret."
There was a silence afterwards that left a depressing aura hanging in the air. I could feel Sam's sadness within me and I felt guilty for having tainted his sweet essence.
You did not taint me. I was perverse to begin with. I am the reason for all the bad that has happened. I understand this now. If not for me, you would not have to suffer...
I shook my head as tears threatened my eyes. "Don't..."
I shouldn't have existed, Emily. You could have been happy, if it were not for me.
"Stop," I whispered.
I'm so sorry for all that I have done...
A tear escaped and fell down my cheek, then dropped onto my dress, creating a faint darkened spot of fabric. Then, Sam said something that ripped my heart out of my chest.
I don't want to exist anymore...
If he could cry, I am sure he would. The sadness in his voice was enough to have me sniffling. I wiped my tears away with trembling hands but more seemed to spawn uncontrollably. It hurt to hold back the sobs and screams that the world hasn't heard since three years ago. I couldn't cry like this, not in front of a man like Gaines. Thinking of Gaines, I looked up at him to see he was eyeing me carefully. He looked away to write down a few more notes. Then, he set the writing feather down, closed the ink pot and held his hands together in front of him on the desk. "Our discussion is concluded," he said, my heart sank, "Thank you for your cooperation, Emily. This was a fruitful venture."
I wanted to say something in return but no words left my mouth. All I could do was sit on the chair and worry about the constable who would come in for me and take me to meet my death. Today would be the end of me. The end of us. Sam and I. As a result of my grief, I covered my face with my hands and hunched over. Without knowing, I began to tremble. Earlier I was so welcoming to the idea of receiving my punishment and dying. Now I do not want to. Something within me has been stirred up. I do not want to die. I want to live despite that I am undeserving. I want to live.
The scent of smoke filled the air and I presumed Gaines had lit another cigar. I felt this sensation over me, like an evilness creeping across my skin. I realized that Gaines must be looking at me, with those pernicious eyes. There is something wrong with him, I have a feeling. This sense of dread has followed him since he approached me earlier. But it doesn't follow him, it radiates from him. There is more to him than an archive keeper. There is evil unlike anything else. Behind his eyes is malevolence and a lust. A lust for chaos.
The sound of a door opening had me seizing up abruptly. Footsteps echoed into the room. Silence. Gaines sighed. "I am done with her. She is yours now," he said. My head shot up and I watched as the constable from earlier walked up to me and plucked me from my seat. He bonded my hands together with rope again and I was led out. When I turned to take one last look at Gaines, I saw a full, wicked grin on his pale face, his eyes sparking with a greater fire. My body went cold and soon Gaines disappeared around the corner as I was taken away.
A part of me wanted to struggle and kick and claw, scream my lungs out, curse the world, order for Sam to attack. That part of me did nothing. Deep down I knew this is what had to be done. I do not want to die but I do not want to cause any harm to Sam. If he felt strongly about staying alive then he would have knocked the constable off of his feet as soon as he entered the room. I cannot allow Sam to suffer any longer. We both know this is for the best.
We're tired of running.
The constable took me away and we exited the building. I was put into a different carriage this time and was seated with the officer. He eyed me cautiously but what harm could I do? There is no will left in me to fight. It died long ago, along with everyone I loved, my hopes and dreams. I have lost myself and am nothing but a shell. There is no greater pain than of being a shell.
The carriage jolted forward by the strength of two horses and I swayed along as we rode. I longed to sleep but it would not come at this time. I felt terrible as I remembered poor Philip, my horse. How is he fairing? Will someone find him out there and take him as their own? Will he escape his reins and run, free from everything? I can only imagine the feeling of being free. He will be better off without me. He is such a loyal steed. I hope he is not too loyal.
The silence within the carriage was agonizing and brutal to my ears. Why must the ride be so long? I wonder if it will ever stop. Suddenly I hear banging and I jump in my seat. I lean to the side to look out of a small window, only to see crowds of people hitting the carriage. They hollered insults and death threats. Even children joined in on the heckling. A part of me wanted to make them eat their words and hurt them. Like before, that part of me did nothing. Instead I took the muffled shouts of the angry. I looked out the window on the right and saw more people. They surrounded the carriage, no doubt slowing the horses, making the ride more agonizing. I looked up at the sky, the last bit of beautiful I will ever see. It seemed some dull clouds were coming in and would fill the entire sky soon. A bird flew overhead, flapping its beautiful, wide wings. In that moment I longed to switch places with that bird and just fly. Be free of everything.
The carriage shook with every turn of its wheels and every hit the people outside threw at it. I closed my eyes tightly and pictured happy things. Father chopping wood outside with his gallant body, eyes full of focus as they always were. The knowledge he taught me. The feeling of him holding me close when danger lurked just outside of our cottage. The sacrifice he made for Sam and I. Ruth and Frederick faded in, with smiles on their dark skinned faces. Ruth holding me close as she sang me a lullaby on my bed. Frederick teaching me about the crops and nature, teaching me to embrace it. Ruth's melodic voice of comfort, Frederick's hearty laugh of energy. The times where I would awake from a nightmare and they would both hug me close, like their own child. I was happy, truly happy, but it was all taken from me. I can remember Father telling me something, In order to live a happy life, you have to be willing to work and suffer to achieve it. I have suffered through every ordeal, every heartbreak and trial yet I am still no closer to a happy life. I never will be, even if by some miraculous happening that ensures my survival. I doubt I would ever be so fortunate.
The carriage came to a stop. My heart plummeted into my stomach and nausea overwhelmed me. I could still hear people shouting at me and as soon as the carriage door opened the sound amplified. The constable grabbed me from my seat and I was shoved off of the carriage. I fell into a puddle of mud that was barely beginning to dry. I spat out the moist dirt and struggled to pick myself up. I heard laughter at my failed attempts which consisted of me slipping again and again. Finally I was excused of the effort as the constable who rode with me had picked me up to my feet. We walked down a path which would lead to a larger area. People hollered at me, saying disgusting words and giving me the gnarliest of glares. Stones were thrown at me and I was unfortunate to have had one strike my face. People laughed and cheered at the astounding hit while the cut across my cheek bled and bruised. I wanted to lash out and the hot, boiling feeling in my gut told me Sam felt just as strongly. I never ordered him to do anything. I held my head high and kept walking.
The shouting gave me a headache and I felt dizzy for a moment. When I slowed down I was shoved forward into a faster pace by the constable. My feet dragged across the dirt, covering them in grime. As I walked forward, a little boy ran up in front of me from the right and threw a tomato at me. I groaned as juice, seeds and redness covered my face. The boy flashed a wicked smile before running off to the left, earning some pats on the back. I shook off the tomato remains as best as I could and kept walking. Another horrible incident occured when a group of younglings began swiping at me with thin branches. Despite how ridiculous it looked, the branches burned my skin. I tried to ignore the irritating pain as more and more kids whipped me. They put more force into their hits and it wasn't long before I was surrounded and sent to my knees. I hunched over and hid my face with my hair as sharp branches scratched at my skin and clothes. I never cried out and never struck back. I only sat there and took the pain. I felt a hand grab my hair and I was forced to look up. In front of me was a boy, possibly no older than I. He had this mischievous look in his eyes and I wondered why he would dare touch me. Suddenly, he stood up and struck a belt across my face. The hit rattled the side of my head and I controlled my urge to whimper. He picked my head up again and slapped the belt across my face a second time. Somewhere to my right, an older, hoarse voice exclaimed, "Good job, son! Make her weep!" I grit my teeth to hold back my screams as the boy kept beating me with the belt. Over and over. More and more pain. More and more heat. Soon my lip was bleeding and my right eye twitched so badly that I was forced to close it. The boy gave up on me and with one last kick to the stomach he left me for the crowd. I lay on the ground in a heap, coughing from the unbearable pressure on my side.
Emily...
Sam's voice was reluctant and saddened. I spat out blood onto the dirt. "D-Don't..," was all I croaked. Sam obeyed me and did not strike back. I was hauled to my feet again and forced to keep walking. I was only a few yards away from entering the open area yet the steps I took felt like they spanned for years. I was tired and shaking from the pain inflicted upon me. Still, people shouted at me. Still, people roared for my death. Still, there was no remorse for my miserable self. There will never be reprieve for my aching soul.
Finally I crossed the threshold into the open area. In the center of the open space was a tall wooden pole with wood kindling at the base. I gulped yet even that seemed painful and challenging. My legs shook and my steps wavered. I was stopped about two feet away from the kindling base. The constable in charge of me stripped me of my cloak and took away my mask, leaving me in my raggedy dress. I still felt exposed. He threw the mask and clock into the dirt. The black and red mask tumbled across the ground, earning a few dirt spots. I took one last look at it, the masterpiece I made three years ago. How much blood has been splattered over its surface? It is an object of my evil, yet I cannot bear to see it go after all of these years.
Another officer helped the other with pulling me up onto the kindling. As the two worked together to bind my body to the wooden pole, I scanned the area around me. Townspeople surrounded me to see the show that would be my burning. Most of them held savage expressions yet I could see the happiness in them. A wave of repulsion came over me but went as quick as it came at the sight of two men carrying a large bundle of cloth. They moved awkwardly, one moving forward and the other moving backward. They struggled for a moment until one of them lost their grip and the bundle dropped. The man still holding it snapped at the other but I wasn't concerned over their argument. All I could stare at was the sight of the small, scorched, bleeding hand which fell out from beneath the cloth. My body tensed up and my throat tightened, a feeling of dread overwhelming me. Before I could stare any longer, the men picked up the bundle again and began moving. The small hand dangled limply as they walked and it left behind a trail of blood droplets for the dirt to soak up. I shook my head and turned away, not wanting to believe it was who I thought it was. My thoughts quickly changed and I imagined myself in the place of that body. I looked down at myself, knowing my skin would be charred by the coming flames, knowing I will be unrecognizable in a matter of hours.
A booming voice startled me from my morbid thoughts. "We are gathered here today to bring an end to the notorious monster, Emily Mason!" People cheered. I tried to find the producer of the voice. "She has desecrated our land with the Devil's magic and has lain waste to the lives of innocent people. Two colonies destroyed. By her!" Citizens roared. I finally found the producer of the voice and grimaced to see a priest. The one type of people Sam and I hate with a passion. The priest continued his words. "We cannot allow a demon spawn such as her to continue walking on this Earth. She will corrupt us all! Seduce faithful men! Turn pure women into whores! Take our children and turn them into criminals! People like her deserve to perish!" People cheered a consensus. "We will purify the evil that lies beneath her human exterior! For our people! For our land! For our God!" An uproar erupted from the sea of townspeople and made my head pound. "Light the fire!," The priest bellowed. Upon the order four men came up with torches and carefully touched the fiery ends to the base of the stake. I watched as small flames began to crawl slowly along the wood. They slithered towards me like snakes, ready to strike and inject me with burning venom.
Emily.
"Yes, Sam?" I was quite relieved to hear his voice.
I am sorry for everything leading up to this moment. You never deserved this.
Even though the flames were still coming at me and the glares of many bore into me, I smiled. "Don't be sorry," I said, "I am happy and appreciative for every moment spent with you. I do not regret anything I have done and you should feel the same. We will face hardships together until the end."
But...you're going to die...
"It is best, Sam," I murmured. Heat began radiating against my skin, growing stronger with every passing moment.
It is not best for me! I do not want to exist but that shouldn't be the end for your life either.
"I'm going through with this for you," I admitted.
Emily, are you mad?!
"Yes."
Why for me? Huh? Why go through so much trouble for me? Why sacrifice yourself for me? I am nothing! I have no physical form, I have no purpose in life! I do not even believe I have a life. I am nothing! So, why protect me? Why acknowledge me? Why do you love me?
I frowned at Sam's lack of confidence in himself and in our friendship. "You are a part of me. If a part of me dies, then so does the rest. I love you too much to live a sad life without you. I am respecting your wishes to end your existence. I am the anchor that holds you down and it's time we break free."
B-But, Emily..! You're going to die! Do you not see that?!
"It is fine," I said. "No matter what happens, I know we will always be together."
Emily-!
"Trust me."
The shouts of prayers and celebration roared around me. The flames on the kindling grew taller, brighter and hotter. The heat was enough to irritate my skin. The first lick of flame reached the skin at my feet and I winced. More began slithering towards me and very little space was left between my body and the fire. Even with the shouting of townspeople, I heard Sam as clear as day.
Okay.
Regardless of the searing pain on my skin, I smiled. I swept my eyes over the angry town before me one last time before closing them and welcoming the pain of the fire. The prayers cried out were drowned out by my humming softly. I ignored the world around me and sang a lullaby, one that Ruth used to sing to me after a nightmare. I thought of everyone I lost that I loved. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I apologized for all of the wrong I did. For misusing Father's teachings, for committing the sins that Ruth and Frederick disliked. No form of apology could ever make up for my crimes and the hope that was lost in me. Though I cannot help but keep apologizing. Memories played out, giving me more reason to cry and wish to live. Even though it is hard for me to believe in an afterlife, I hope to see Father, Ruth and Frederick somewhere. Just one last time.
In the midst of it all, Sam spoke to me.
Thank you, Emily.
I smiled yet cried at the way Sam's voice cracked with sorrow.
Soon my humming turned to shrilled screaming. The fire ate away at my skin, blood dripping down my legs and fueling it. Fire caught on my dress and charred the cotton it was made out of. The fire began traveling up the wooden pole I was tied to, causing flames to reach my back and hands quicker. The pain was unbearable. I began wanting to die and stop this agony. I writhed and trembled as fire ran across my arms and blistered my skin. The tears on my face were endless. To my dread, I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I looked down at myself and screamed at the sight of what the fire had done to them. I turned my eyes upward and held back the pressure in my throat. My screams grew louder and damaged my vocal cords. I wanted to struggle and yank myself away from the fire but I was too weak now. The flames took my strength and are now draining whatever life I have left. I begged for the sweet relief of death. I know it will be sweet. It will be sweeter than living on this Earth any longer. My vision was growing out of sorts and my voice was diminishing. Over the roar of the flames, I could hear a tenor voice call my name. Sam..
I take back my thank you.
Confusion made its way through the pain and I croaked, "What are...y-you..?"
I am not letting you die!!!
Suddenly something changed. I am not sure what it was but it was enough to make me lose all feeling. The muffled prayers and cheering around me soon turned into gasps and shrieks. I couldn't see for a whiteness engulfed my vision. Just when I lost all feeling, something within me stirred. Warmth spread over my body yet in this moment I felt like nothing. The warmth was soothing and I embraced it immediately. Then the warmth faded into an unexpected piercing pain in my chest and head. What was happening?
I won't let you die! No matter what I have to sacrifice!
The screaming of the townspeople grew louder in volume. People screamed to run, others were lost to whatever was threatening them. I could only stay in place and endure the pain that seemingly split me apart. The whiteness still covered my vision, robbing me the chance to see what was happening around me. The splitting pain intensified and caused my body to feel limp yet electrified. I wanted to plead for Sam to stop whatever he was doing but my voice could not work. The pain engulfed me and a heavy pressure squeezed me until I thought I would burst. The piercing pain in my chest and head intensified and met together, then suddenly I felt like I was being pulled apart. Something was being pulled out of my body but I had no idea as to what I was. The only thing I did know was that I felt empty when the sensation ceased.
I felt exhausted and my mind was a blur. But through the whiteness I saw something. A body. A girl. With brunette hair and emerald eyes. I held my breath as I stared at the glowing figure before me. Her body was limp, her hand out towards me, floating away from me. I gasped and tried to reach for her. My left hand was numb but my right hand still had feeling. With a few tugs against the rope that bonded me, I set my hand free and reached. My soul ached without her. I could feel myself slip away as she slips away. I knew I had to catch her, if not then I would fade. My bloody fingers splayed out, trying to grasp hers so that I could pull her back to me, where she belongs. I reached and stretched, straining my wounded body. My fingers were so close to hers, just one more inch. They were close, less than an inch. I can have her again! Just a bit more..
Then, my heart sank.
She slipped away from me.
My fingers never touched hers once.
My vision blackened.
Sam's voice.
I love you, Emily. We will be together again this way. I will always cherish this life that I have shared with you! Now we can start over. I will be stronger this time! I will be a better friend! I will love you even more! I will miss you. But, this isn't good-bye. It is far from it.
Tears streamed down my face. I attempted to speak but it came out as a quiet whimper. My vision left me. My entire being was slipping away. Noises around me faded. Body became nothingness. Pain ceased. I took one last breath of existence.
Then there was silence.
...
"Anata wa kono koto ni tsuite kakunin?" Are you sure about this?
"Yes, darling, I am sure."
"Watashi wa kinchō shite i." I'm nervous.
"Relax, honey. You will be fine. We have been waiting for months! Now we finally have chance."
"Hai.." Okay.
"Good. Now, what should we name her? She does not have name."
"Kanojo wa hontōni iro no ao ga sukidesu.." She really likes the color blue.
"Yes, she does. Isn't that cute? Oh my gosh, I have it!"
"Nani?! Nani?!" What?! What?!
"Ao!"
"Ao?"
"Yes! That is the name! It is perfect!"
"Kore wa kawaīdesu.." It is cute.
"Yes! Ao! Her name will be Ao!"
"Subarashīdesu!" Wonderful!
"Welcome to the family, Ao!"
...
I told you we would be together again.