Angel Of Death

A/N

All Characters, backstories and original plot belongs to the owner, Diana Gabaldon. All Oc's, new plot and story belong to me. I am basing this work of fiction purely on what I have seen from the Tv show, up to present broadcast. This is a one-shot.

Angel Of Death

Geillis looked up at the grey sky, her body hot as adrenaline surged through her veins. The townspeople spat at the stake on which she was tied to; her wrists already sore, the rope dry and constantly rubbing the skin away. She closed her eyes sucking in one last breath of cold air, moist from the nights rain. Her happiness ended this day. She would not see her child, her unborn child that she and Dougal had most enjoyably made together. Glancing down at her stomach the skin had acquired Goosebumps from both the cold Scottish air and the fear. Geillis' fiery red hair flew in the wind, the colour representing witchcraft. A ridiculous accusation she thought, all lies. But for a millisecond she pondered 'what if it were true?' The women's thoughts stopped as an unwashed, greasy grey haired old man held a torch. The fire flickering as the wind insisted on trying to blow it out. "Witchcraft!" The shout came from a young women, long blonde hair and bright green eyes. noticeably pretty. She spat at the finish of her exclaim.

Geillis' cheeks were damp with salty tears, they came running down as the townspeople dragged her towards her death. The torch was nearing, her breathing quickening. This was it; she had finally learnt what it meant to have life grow in you. Now it'll be taken from her. "Devil's whore!" another voice shouted at her, all the shouts and disgust in the townspeople's voices faded. The only thing she knew existed at this moment in time was the torch and the rope restraining her from her freedom. She screamed, a heart shattering sob escaped her as the torch touched the dry wood propped up around her. It caught and the next thing she knew smoke was rising at her feet, the thick fumes preventing her panicked breaths.

The hem of her dress was alight, the skin of her shins and feet burning. The heat so painful it blurred her vision, the skin melted the muscle along with it. cauterising it as it burned over and over again. This was agony, she wanted it to leave; her screams filling the town. The fire had reached her whole body, concealing her visibility. A light so bright shone in her eyes. she squinted, the pain gone. Where was she? Was she dead? "Come." a light hearted voice echoed around her, she followed it. Her restraints had vanished, Geillis Duncan had died. She was sure of it now, she felt the soft protracted kisses of her mother. The white light becoming more intense as she left down the diminishing pathway.

A/N Okay! I hope you enjoyed this, I've never written Fiction for Outlander before and wanted to make Geillis's final moments more memorable. Review and Favourite please! x