Excert From Burning Of A Witch

[RevDonna Mulvey]

Burning of a Witch

By Rev. Morgana RedSkye Black

“If ye will save yer life, then ye would confess to be a witch.”

“If I will confess to be a witch, then I would be condemned to die, my lord.”

The Magistrate slammed his fist on the table beside me. I felt the chains cut into my flesh as I jumped in fain surprise. The cold winter wind blew outside the window, like a woman’s cry of pain. Indeed, for as the chains cut into my wrists, blood ran down my arms, and fell in tiny red droplets on the cold stone floor.

“What do ye fear most my lord, that ye believe me a Witch, or that I am a woman, a woman ye once loved and now condemn to die?”

He looked at me with daggers in his eyes. In his heart, he knew I spoke the truth, but it mattered naught. This man, claiming to be so holy and righteous, was only a man and subject to the will of his peers and not to his own heart and soul. It mattered naught that he had loved me once.

He motioned for his man who stood still as a statue by the door, who moved toward me with his whip in hand. The man grabbed me by my hair and threw me to the floor, I bit my tongue as pain shot threw my body, I refused to cry out, for to do so would show my weakness.

He tore the thin blanket from me and raised his weapon of torture. The whip came down and cut into my skin sending ribbons of blood across his face. Repeatedly, the whip sliced my flesh, I thought in that instant, I would die. I got to my knees; crawling to a chair, I braced myself for the agonizing sting of his man’s whip, pleading silently to the earth to open up and swallow them.

I collapsed, my chest heaving from the searing pain that swept through me like a thousand knives, still the whip came down till I heard the Magistrate in his grating cynical tone; “Enough.”

“End yer torture Elizabeth, ye can end this, and all ye have to do is confess.” He leaned over me whispering in my ear.

I lifted my head slowly and gazed at him with blood shot eyes, a single tear escaped, sliding down my face. He took out a cloth from his pocket and wiped my face, I turned my face away from him, cringing from his touch that I was once enraptured by. I looked into his eyes so full of fear and hatred, wondering why he had turned on me in such a loathsome manner.

“What say ye, Elizabeth?”

I summoned what strength I could and pushed myself to my feet.

“Never.”

“Then ye leave me with no choice.” He swept from the room, slamming the door behind him. I heard the key turn the lock and my heart sank. The man that had me once yearning for his love and his touch on my naked skin had turned on me in the cruelest manner. I knew then that by standing amidst the hypocrisy of his beliefs, I was condemned to die.

In the passing of the day, and I only knew of its passing by the light coming in by way of a small window built too high for me to escape from that the hour was late, no one returned for what seemed an eternity. I closed my eyes, wishing myself in my home with my family around me, and that this madness would end. Opening my eyes, I looked to the window and saw the moon, that glorious moon that under which we had shared a lover’s tryst…

Magistrate Matthew Pendleton stood in his bedchamber with a cup of wine in his hand. He drank the liquid and threw the cup in the fire asking God to purge him of his duty. He wrestled with his heart and his mind. While he knew Elizabeth was a healer and a midwife, and was skilled in her craft, he believed there could be no possibility of witchcraft.

That was until a neighbor had spied her sweeping her front porch from east to west and singing.

He turned and walked out on his balcony gazing up at the same moon. He closed his eyes, and asked God to forgive him. It filled him with dread at the prospect of sending his beloved Elizabeth to die by way of a blazing fire. He never knew his God to be so cruel. He thought of going down to the prisons and releasing her, putting her on a boat to a distant land and joining her after he conspired his own death, but he could not. Questions would be asked, for his reputation preceded him in court. It was then he caught the faint scent of lavender on the wind, and a soft caress on his face.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered. A knock on the door startled him. He went to it and found the guard.

[Fawzo]

I liked it.

I was ready to go get some popcorn then it ended!

[RevRainbow]

Yep. Need some more (story and popcorn!).

[SalemWitchChild]

I think you have a very good start. I'd like to see some more background info. Like what country are they in, some more info about the woman and their lovers tryst. Give us some more info on their friends, acquaintances, surroundings, etc...... You have a lot to build on but you've got a good start.

One thing though, I can't really believe anyone would be able to silently endure being beaten by a whip. At the very least she should have more than one tear. You paint an image that her back is being torn open by the whip, she's got to have more reaction, Yes I know she's trying to be strong, but there's only so much the human body can take. Perhaps she keeps quiet but we see more tears.

[RevDonna Mulvey]

Thank you so much so the feedback! Thanks especially to Salem I copiaed iand piasted to ia document to reviaew whiale workziang on iat. Pleiase forgiacve the spelliang here the kzeyboiard ias messed up iand we ciant fiagure out why! Gliad you enjoyed iat. IA got more popcorn!!