The silence of one hundred people is loud in my ears, pressing in on me, broken only by the harsh voice booming over the crowd. Snow has begun to lightly fall, and I wrap my coat tighter, yet I know warmth won't find me today. All eyes are on the makeshift podium constructed in the middle of the city square, and no one dares speak a word as the overseer paces up and down, spitting out the seven strictures as a mother scolds a naughty child. All the while, the figure with a sack bound to her head stands quietly, slumped and tied to the erected pole in the center.
"Restrict an errant mind before it becomes fractious and divided! Can two enemies occupy the same body? No! For the first will direct it one way, and the second another, until they stumble into a ditch and its neck is broken." I feel the hem of my coat tug, directing my attention away from the platform and to the little girl standing next to me.
"I'm cold. I thought you said we would be safe here," she whispers to me, trembling slightly from the cold and fear.
"Be quiet, and look away. It'll be over soon." She heeds my advice and puts her gloved hands over her eyes, but I can see the gap between her fingers.
"The Outsider is among us! No one is safe!" My attention goes back towards the pole as the overseer starts circling the poor woman, still preaching to the silent crowd.
"He is in every shadow, around every corner, awaiting his next victim! We must purge the heresy of his mark from Caltan, and only fire keeps away the shadows." The overseer rips off the sack, revealing a pale, middle aged woman, her hair beginning to grey.
"Speak now heretic, explain why you have the mark on your hand!"
"No sir, please," stuttered the woman, "it's not the mark sir, I swear it. I'm only a simple dock worker, and I've had this birthmark all me life! I would never accept the Outsider, never!"
"Hold your tongue, witch, it only seals your fate. The Outsider has marked you as one of his own," the overseer bellowed, pointing dramatically to a red splotch on her right hand.
"That's not the mark." whispered the little girl.
"Shut up, you want someone to hear you? I thought I told you not to look," The girl shrugged, putting her hands back over her face.
"Fire will purge your corruption" screamed the preacher, "bring me the torch!" Another overseer steps forward, brandishing a blazing torch, handing it to the speaker as the woman began to scream. Without a second thought, the overseer tossed the torch at the woman's feet, lighting the straw and kindling placed there. I averted my eyes as her screams of fear turned to screams of pain. It was a noise I had never heard before in my life, and as her vocal chords ripped to shreds, I truly hoped I would never have to hear it again.
"We should go," I said, grabbing the girl's hand. She nodded solemnly. I could feel the heat of her burning flesh on my face, sickening me as we turned around and dispersed with the crowd, the silence echoing throughout the city.