8By Son Of Evil.
England, 1412
I ran through the woods desperately, heedless of the thorns and branches, ignoring the cuts and the pain they gave me. I heard her scream again and willed myself to go faster. I could see the torches now, held by the village mob.
Their taunts and shouts and curses at her rang through the night air, tearing at my soul like the claws of a thousand demons.
I cleared the trees and she screamed again, a cry of pain and anguish that turned my heart black with rage. A roar so ferocious that it could have come from the devil himself erupted from me, nearly tearing my throat apart.
They turned to me, unwittingly revealing her to me. The villages raised their torches and drew their weapons, pitchforks, butchers knifes, clubs, even crosses and holy water.
But I saw none of this, only her. She lay unmoving on the grass, beaten, bloody, bleeding and broken. She lay in a pool of her own blood, almost silver in the moonlight.
I ran through the mob, barely feeling the thud of their clubs, the slash of their knifes.
I reached her in seconds, and each second seemed to last an eternity. I pulled her to me, but she cried in pain. My goal had been to get her to safety, but she could not move. I sank to my knees, her blood soaking through my breeches. "No no no no," I chanted over and over again. I said it like a prayer.
Her eyes fluttered open and she reached to cup my cheek with a shacking hand. "God is finally punishing us for our wicked deeds," she whispered. "My darling, my lover, my love. I was born in love with you. Why would God stand inbetween?"
She chuckled, but it immediately turned into a weak but violent cough. "The mercy of God and his Son are not for such as us." Then the light left her eyes and she lay dead in my arms. I threw my head back at the stars and screamed. "Christ you bastard!"
"You'll join your witch in Hell," a priest snarled.
The mob closed in, no guilt in their eyes, only hatred. I leapt from the ground and threw myself at them, powered by the rage and hate I felt in my own tortured soul. My fists and feet struck them, but they held me down.
A priest read me the last rites, and a knife was plunged into my heart. A spray of blood washed over them, and they leaped back in disgust and fright.
A feeling like sleep overtook me, and as I closed my eyes, I saw my love smiling at me. Our spirits embraced as we soared downwards, and the gates of Hell opened before us.
We were kissed and caressed by the demons, and Satan opened his arms and embraced us. We would burn for eternity. Together.