Title: Hellfire's girl
Disclaimer: None of BtVS is mine, I don't make any profit from this.
A/N: This is the first fanfic story I've ever posted, so if you like what you read please r/r so I know to continue this fic. Big thank you to beta Spike's-baby-gurl. Now enjoy!
Chapter 1. Beyond The Burning Time
Early October, 1519
"Witch!" They called out. The fire from their makeshift torches caught in the balmy breeze, swirling the heated flames around causing them to lick at the hems of her skirt.
"Devil's child." They hissed. The unruly crowd was pumped, their bodies humming with adrenalin, yet also sweating in fear. Up above, the purple tinted clouds in the blood-red orange sky created an ominous backdrop for its wayward inhabitants.
As the ravenous crowd approached, the frightened girl ran for her life. The tight muscles in her legs ached, as her bruised bare feet sped over the cold, jagged rocks. "Witch!" The crowd drew closer as they spat out her crime. Another gust of wind whipped thick flame red curls in her face, and she was momentarily blinded. This moment of weakness is what allowed Isaac Abbott to grab her. His body odor wafted up her nose as his arms squeezed her thin body tightly to his chest. He stank of sweat, grease, and cheap soap. A calloused hand hand pressed firmly against her mouth, smashing against her teeth.
"I got the witch!" He cried out triumphantly. The young woman squirmed and writhed, biting down on the man's hand. The villagers came forward easily, now unafraid as the witch was caught. "Beat her." Cried out one. "No we must burn her!" Yelled another. They paused for a moment, before murmuring in agreement. The witch had to be destroyed. They proceeded towards the ready stake, determined to release themselves from the witch's presence and influence.
They dragged the girl through the village, stopping at the center of the town. There in the spot only hours ago women had shopped for their groceries, and children had played in the dirty streets, was a large bundle of kindling poorly strewn together. Obviously done hurriedly so. For the twine was already pulling madly apart, like the insides of an overripe melon ready to burst free from its fleshy prison. In the center of the stockpile was, the stake a single up-righted aged wood log. Someone brought forth the ropes.
"Burn the witch! Let the devil be brought forth from this unholy vessel and be relinquished into the burning flames! May the cries of the burning flesh annihilate the creature within and thrust it back forth into oblivion!" Reverend Lewis threw up his hands and cried.
They brought her forward. Men had sharped pitchforks, knives and pikes. They beat her raw, while howling for justice. Pounding their painful weapons against her pale flesh till the shredded cheap wool oozed dark red. A man in a tall hat grabbed her limp, bloody body and with eager assistance tied her to the pole.
"Spawn of Devil. Vile creature of darkness. Witch!" The crowd hurled their insults, while rowdy children threw pocket sized stones. A well aimed jagged rock gazed her forehead and the assailant cheered in triumph as a trickle of blood began to run down her face.
Two men stepped forward. John Hobbs and Ezekiel Dawson. Torches in hand, they held their arms high for the mob to see. "The devil shall not claim our kin!" Roared Hobbs, stepping forward. The crowd swayed and groaned frantically, pumped and excited on a natural high.
Dawson and Hobbs stood side by side in front of the spectacle. "May He have mercy on your soul!" Hissed Dawson. As the two men bent down in unison. Suddenly they froze.
"What are you waiting for?" A bald, angry red faced man cried out. "Burn her."
As if paralyzed by an unseen force the two men neither moved nor blinked. The girl's head, which before had been hanging limply, now shot up with a renewed strength. Blood ran down her face from an open head wound and trickled into her mouth as she smiled. Her teeth stained with red liquid. She spoke.
"I think not." An unseen force hurled the crowd back, leaving the group distraught, twisted and bent, like rag dolls on their backs. Invisible hands began to pull and twist freeing the bound girl of her shackles.
Jumping from the wooden grave, she paced though the crowd. Too disoriented to stand, the villagers simply stared open mouthed at her.
"So you wish for fire, for me to burn." Her slanted green eyes narrowed and darted around, evaluating her captors. "Well since you seem to enjoy playing with fire I think this shall be a fitting punishment."
She raised her arms to the sky and began chanting in a mixture of tongue twisting languages too difficult for the simple addled townspeople to decipher. Another flick and bursting red flames engulfed the town. "Let them burn!" She cried. And with a last whispered sentence she disappeared with a shattering bang. The townspeople stared at the empty space in horror as all around them their houses, church, and small schoolhouse were fed to the hungry flames. Leaving nothing behind but charred piles of ash.
