Being burnt at the stake didn't have nearly as many consequences as she had originally thought. Of course, the faint burn scars trickling across her skin were definitely a downside, and the lack of knowing exactly where she was, or why she was here unnerved her to the ends of the earth. Was this place even a part of earth?
She was standing in the center of- she couldn't decide on a name for this place.
Her lack of creativity for naming such an interesting place vexed her in the slightest. Yet, a name suddenly popped into her mind.
The Void.
Although bland, it seemed like an acceptable title. Her surroundings were black, and only black. The faint buzzing of what reminded her of an insect scoured the room, irking her immensely. Darkened, apparent walls of the space seemed infinite, stretching to the heavens. But it wasn't like she could tell how tall or, how far away anything appeared to be! This room was lit, yet there was no lightsource, and she couldn't see her shadow, despite the room being shrouded in an eerie glow.
One may think this was Hell, an empty, desolate place, with no one in sight to hear you scream once the paranoia consumed your being. To this woman? It was simply another walk in the field of rotting corpses that she had slaughtered earlier that day.
This woman, was not an ordinary housewife, or an ordinary anything.
She had prided, yet pitied herself on her murderous deeds. Yet she had spent many nights contemplating her sins.
Murdering men and women in cold blood for her heinous wants, continuing to practice witchcraft despite it destroying her life, and pushing her husband's and young daughters' well being aside to complete a final spell, she had ultimately failed and caused herself to end up here. Was that what happened? She couldn't recall. Her last visual memory was simply death by flame. The witch's eyes widened in recollection.
This sparked her memory. What had happened to her daughter now? Surely the townspeople would not allow her spawn to live!
Her husband, where had he gone before the burning? Had he rescued their daughter? Or was he the one to initiate this whole situation?
As questions gradually flooded her mind, the woman slowly collapsed to the floor in a troubled lump of deceased agony. She knew she could get out of this! She knew she could return home! Her own thoughts began to stutter, unable to put together proper thoughts.
The wicked woman entangled her long fingers in her hair, prepared to rip it out in the case she would continue to process devious thoughts, yet she finally took note of her contemporary appearance.
Whilst running her fingers through her hair, she noted how long and voluptuous it was.. and the color.
Black.
Just like her soul, apparently.
Her skin was almost clear of all imperfections, white,and porcelain like. If she didn't have the burn scars, she could consider herself flawless. She was never flawless, never quite how she wanted to be. The woman's facial features were soft, plump lips dabbed with a black sheen. Her eyes, she couldn't exactly see them. She didn't want to. Looking into the eyes of a terrifying killer wasn't exactly on her agenda, and she wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Although, a part of her wished her eyes would revert back to when she was an innocent child, before this mess came about.
She heard a voice vibrating from the sky, the heavens. Her soulless eyes glanced up at the being, awaiting judgement. It was speaking in a language she couldn't understand, not fully at least. Yet, she recognized one word.
Her name.
"Jasmine... kore wa anata no handan hōru de, kono heya wa anata no tamashī o han'ei shite, anata ga suru koto ni tsutomete iru mono! Anata ga miru koto ga dekiru yō ni, soreha kuro-"
Jasmine tilted her head shambolically at the voice, stumbling up to her feet, she took a mental note of the gaudy heels she was wearing. Heels that she did not die in. If one thing was certain, Jasmine always kept track of her attire!
She heard the echoed ruffling of papers, and shouting from what seemed to be above her. Was this a tacky joke?
To end the fiasco, a muffled slap, as if the one currently speaking to her had been scolded. An arbitrator more clear and inviting began to speak.
"Excuse me for that, Mrs..?"
The speaker's voice seemed to curl upwards, as if he didn't know her name, she had only assumed the speaker was male due to his manly, yet, equally galling voice.
"Hamilton, Jasmine Hamilton"
She had sneered at the voice, crossing her arms. Was this man supposed to frighten her? Scare her into telling her sins? If he was, it certainly was not working!
"Ah! Miss Hamilton! We have been expecting you for quite some time.. Preparing for your arrival, Haha!" The man seemed nervous. Jasmine had raised her eyebrow in response, tapping her flashy heels upon the nonexistent floor impatiently. She wanted to hear what this obnoxious carrier had to say,but only if it was useful.
"Oh boy, this is embarrassing.. A new lust joins Hell and this is how I treat her?' He continued to babble, Jasmine no longer paying attention.
Lust huh? She figured that's what her demonic title would be one day. Her husband had been a demon himself, as strange as it was. He had told her all she would need to know about Hell and its customs, not like she ever wanted to know, but her husband took great care to make sure she was knowledgable of his heritage.
"Annnnnd THAT'S ABOUT IT!"
The male was giddy, too giddy for her liking. Had she just missed everything he had to say? Ugh, no matter, she knew what was going on. Jasmine always knew the current situation, no matter how dire!
"Now.. You'll be sent to the center of Hell, or, what I call ALABAMA."
He laughed at his own juvenile joke, receiving no laughter nor a single response at all from Jasmine. The voice coughed, its giggling dying down.
"Erm.. After you are sent to hell, you'll have free reign to do what you like.. aslongasyoupledgeloyaltytotheallmightylucifer-".
She opened her mouth to object, but was stopped all too short. The faded walls of The Void began to close in on her, crushing her into oblivion. Jasmine needed to get home.
~
Her husband took her hand, sitting her down at their small, comfortable, yet cluttered dining table. His fiery red hair covered his eyes. She knew this was his way of hiding his thoughts. The man's eyes were a window to his true emotions, and she knew it. With their level of intimacy, she could tell when he was being serious from a mile away. Anyone would be able to notice with the desperate, forlorn, appearance enveloping his features.
"Jasmine.. You need to listen to me"
Her husband spoke plainly, with a tinge of uncertainty in his voice, yet he was being serious, she didn't like it, it wasn't like him! Where had her playful, loving husband gone? He had tilted her head up to look into her eyes, his thumb resting under her chin. She nodded, despite not truly understanding what was so dire about the situation.
"Continuing to.. use these spells, along with being with me-" He paused, brushing her hair out of her emerald eyes.
"-It's going to kill you."
Jasmine had immediately denied it.
"Josh, you know how cautious I am.. I'll be fine."
She was sure of herself, how could she not be? Jasmine was by far the strongest magic wielder in the land, nothing could get past her! Yet with her husband's words, she wouldn't dare look him in the eye.
Josh took her cheeks in his hands, holding her still.
"No, you won't."
His words were cold, heartless even. All passion, kindness, and understanding was drained from his being at that very moment. What did he know, and why was he being so vague with her?
Their conversation was interrupted by a child's cry from the kitchen. For once, hearing her daughter cry made her smile. At least Josh would always have her.
Josh loosened his grip on his wife, tilting his head back towards the kitchen, he scoffed.
"Saved by the brat.."
Josh's reference wouldn't be understood by Jasmine for another five hundred years, but she laughed anyways.
"Our daughter is by no means a brat, she's only an infant, and infants cry"
Her tone was matter-of-fact, yet again sure of herself.
She had begun to stand, resituating her peasant's dress. Her husband had stopped her, standing up.
"Wait.."
His size was small for a demon, yet, he still towered over his wife by at least three feet. She couldn't help but admire his kindness, what did she do to deserve him? He leaned down, pressing his lips against hers.
After an all too short moment he pulled away, leaning his forehead on her own.
"I love you, Jasmine"
"I love you too"