Chapter One:The Trial of a Witch
The guard came with the keys to the jail cell and unlocked it. They had expected a fight, but the last of pride had been destroyed. There was no will to fight.
"Let's go." The guard ordered. The sound of footsteps seemed unusually loud as they brought their prisoner with them, the last time they would walk this Earth.
The guard jerked the chain forward, the prisoner had been falling behind. "Move it, bitch." The guard sneered, "Or should I say..... Witch."
This gained no obvious reaction, but in truth, hearing those words before death is certainly not pleasant. It wasn't said as a question, but rather a disgusted remark, an insult.
So why no reaction? One last look of defiance? "Why fight anymore. What good did it do then? Why bother."
The grim procession reached the street, making their way to the back of a makeshift platform constructed just for this event.
Of course there was no need for a public execution any more than there was need for the platform to be constructed like a stage. No more need for the mock trial to be public than there was for nobles to attend. A performance of death for all to see.
Once looking up, seeing how death would be a show to everyone, how does one feel? What should they feel? Nothing was felt upon seeing this fate.
Perhaps the people in their ignorance felt fear. They didn't understand it, so they relished the thought of its destruction. Perhaps the children saw the energy and thought this event similar to a fair, so they partook in it with their parents. Perhaps the nobles saw this as another chance to rise, squish another bug, and show off. Perhaps the soldiers felt pride for supposedly orchestrating this whole event, saviors!
But no one really knew, from the view of the object of whatever they felt, it was senseless torture. And it finally numbed.
"Witch! Killer! Monster! Freak! Temptress! Traitor! Rat!" Everyone joined in shouting whether they understood the words or consequences. Mob mentality, quite powerful.
"Bring them up." The Officer ordered. The guard turned..... unlocking the cuffs. Now to walk the steps to death.
Ascending the stairs, the light from the first part of the sunrise touched your face, illuminating the faded tear stains, from your pleas that had fallen on deaf ears, and the slight red on your left cheek, from where they had slapped you when you tried to explain yourself.
What was your crime? Being born? Standing up for yourself? Saying no? Being different? Or deciding to be different?
Whatever it was, you were guilty. And innocent. Calling you witch was the truth, it was what you were born as. But for what you had been accused, you were innocent.
For a moment it was peaceful as the sunrise illuminated your features. The cheers drowned out, the world vanishing in orange, yellow, and bits of red.
Then the MP pushed you forward. "Move it!" Suddenly it was you drowning in their cheers. The MP forced you to your knees.
"Has the witch any final words?"
"Don't let her speak, she'll curse us!" Oh you wished you could, but it was pointless.
"Wait," One of the nobles called, "Let her say something, it might be amusing." Of course, to them death was amusing. It's always the same.
"Well? Anything to say Bitch? My mistake, I meant witch." The same insult, why add more to your shame?
You breathed out and raised your head, looking over the people crying for your blood, and mustered a firm look. They all fell silent in fear, thinking you would finally cast a spell. Then they didn't know you. The only way to get vengeance was to not be what they saw you as, to prove them wrong. Summoning the last of the you that once was, you spoke with that fire you used to have.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am innocent. Today you executed me not for treason, but for being born. My last request is that you remember this. Remember me, remember what you did, and remember Every. Single. Word." The crowd was silent for a moment, shocked at your words, but what good did it do?
Someone in the crowd shouted, "Off with her head!" Their remark was met by cheers from all sides. You closed your eyes, completely unfeeling. No tears left to cry anymore. You had burned the image of the sunrise into your mind, it was all the more beautiful knowing it was your last sight.
The executioner stepped forward. A blindfold was harshly tied over your eyes. The cheers of the crowd getting louder before stopping. It was as if everyone held their breath. The weapon of your death was raised.... you let out your last breath.... the tears chose now to fall quietly...... "This is the end. It's over. Finally over."
This is the first chapter of the book. Several things to point out. One, updates may sometimes be slow and for that I am sorry. Two, this is my first serious book on Inkitt so go easy on me. It is also posted on Wattpad. Three, no hate speech here, this fanfiction was made for fun(even if it's a little intense)
The song Witch Hunt by Vocaloid was part of my inspiration for this book