Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and all related characters are the product of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon studios. Pandora, Kat, and related characters are the product Silent Elegy.
"Burn the witch!" a dozen voices cried. They were a motley group of peasants, brandishing weapons that ranged from torches to pitchforks to kitchen knives. Two men strode forward dragging a struggling young woman between them. Amid jeers and catcalls, they roughly tied her to a tall wooden stake that had been erected for this very purpose. The girl lashed out uselessly with her feet and kicked one of the myriad logs had been piled around. She didn't even feel the pain as the heavy wood broke her bare foot; she was far too terrified.
She had done nothing to deserve this fate except spurn the advances of the local duke's son. Enraged, the young lord had publicly declared that she had placed a love spell on him, and that he barely broken free. Several of his friends had stepped forward to claim that they had seen her dancing with the devil in the woods at midnight. Bad enough, she thought, but it got worse.
Her own father had dragged her from her bed and clapped chains around her wrists. He had taken her to the village center where he threw her to the ground and called her a witch and a whore while onlookers watched and laughed. She had spent three days in the stocks being pelted with rocks and rotten food by the people she had once called friends.
Now, blinded by tears about the injustice and stung by her family's betrayal, she stared listlessly at her wounded feet until Father Mathias spoke her name. "Hope, daughter of William Thatcher," he said in a resonating tone that silenced the cries of the mob. "We give you one last chance to repent your sins and put your fate in the hands of the Lord."
"I didn't do anything," Hope whispered inaudibly.
"If you have something to say, now is the time."
She had done nothing wrong. She knew they would let her live if she admitted that she had, but she could not. She had not done those awful things they accused her of. Where was the good? Where was the justice? And then she knew.
Those things did not exist. Humans were despicable creatures who delighted in the torment of their fellows. She looked up, then, her eyes filled with hatred. "Very well!" she spat. "I repent that I once called you all my friends!"
Father Mathias nodded, and those closest to the pyre tossed their torches onto it. Seemingly oblivious to this, Hope continued. "I repent that I loved my traitorous father! I repent that I ever thought kind words about my mother!" While her father appeared unmoved, her mother drew back as though the words were a physical blow.
Hope gritted her teeth, determined not to give the villagers the pleasure of hearing her scream as the flames lapped greedily at her legs. "I repent that I did not kill that scheming Lord Nathan when he first propositioned me!" Several people gasped and looked around to where the young lord sat astride his horse, a smug expression on his face.
"I repent that I ever believed in the goodness of humanity!" She longed to scream her agony to the heavens as the flames crept up her body. Instead, she screamed, "If you want me to be evil, then your wish is my command! I will come back for you, all of you, and when I do, I will unleash the evils of the world upon you! I will reduce this hateful world to ruins and ash! Curse you, my former friends! Curse you all!"
The flames climbed past her face; the heat stole the breath from her lungs and boiled her eyes in their sockets. She thought she screamed then, but the roar of the fire was all she could hear. The pain was all consuming, and served only to cement her hatred.
Then the world went dark.
The villagers were justifiably scared by this display, so Father Mathias charged the blacksmith with building a box. It was to be iron and plated with gold; he donated his finest silver cross to be inlaid on the lid. Into this box was placed some ashes from the fire. It was locked, blessed, and the key destroyed.
They buried the box beneath the church, which burned down years later, during the Crusades. The box was found, lost, and found again; true to Hope's last words, ruin and ash followed in its path.