I completely forgot to tell you guys: Happy New Year!
Chapter Fifteen
The next evening, I leaned on a tree next to the wooden stage. Chauncey stood there, pacing back and forth like a lion waiting for its victim, and the crowd waited in intense agony for the show to begin. Finally, Elizabeth Underwood was dragged out in chains.
Chauncey had immediately decided to publicly denounce her for her "crimes", and for them, he made sure that she suffered immensely. Looking at her now, I could see that her fingernails had been cracked and torn off, she had been beaten, and chunks of her hair had been pulled out. She was hardly recognizable. The jailer chained her onto the stage, and backed away. Chauncey stepped forward to speak to the crowd.
"This woman, Elizabeth Underwood," he said, pointing at her, "is not only a harlot, but a witch!" The crowd gasped, and Elizabeth screamed.
Unmoved, he continued. "She has willfully submitted herself to the devil, and has admitted to conspiring to murder the Duke!"
"No!" Elizabeth screamed. The crowd began to hiss and jeer at her, drowning her out. Under torture, Elizabeth had done what any woman had done in her situation- she'd admitted to anything they accused her of. "Chauncey, think of Barnabas!" she plead, grasping his shirt. Chauncey slapped her onto the ground.
"Do not speak to me, harlot!" He turned to the crowd. "What shall we do, with such a woman?" He asked them.
"Burn her!" "Stone her!" "Drown her!" "Squash her!" Chauncey pretended to think about it, leaving the poor woman to shake on the wooden boards in fear.
"Chauncey…my lord please…think of my son…think of my baby boy, please!" she whispered, unable to raise her voice. He leaned towards her, eyes narrowed.
"I have no pity for a soulless harlot such as yourself. You've done nothing but enable evil to work itself upon this planet. I'll send you, you and the fallen angel, both to hell where you will burn for your sinful choices." Her eyes widened, and she began to wail as he backed away.
Look at him! The power's going straight to the fanatic's head! He's killing an innocent woman. Poor thing; she was entirely too lovely to die this way. Rixon commented. He stood some ways back, forcing a sword into Deirdre's wing scars. I must say, you're diabolical, Patch. Still, if this is the plan…
I shushed him, and continued to watch intently.
"Elizabeth Underwood, you have been infected by the devil, and need to be purged. As such, I move to have you burned at the stake. May God have mercy on your soul."
Elizabeth began to shriek and struggle as the jailer pulled her away from the stage.
Rixon and I watched as Chauncey lit the fire to have Elizabeth burned. Seeing it as fit, we'd kidnapped and mindtricked little Barnabas into watching right alongside us. As she began a bloodcurdling scream at the flames licking her legs, he screamed, and then fainted.
Before she succumbed to the flames, Elizabeth turned to her head to Chauncey. Her eyes flashed in hate and agony as she spat the words.
"You will burn in Hell for this, Chauncey Langeais! The pain you suffer at the hands of the fallen; may it be a thousand times more miserable than mine! If I am infected by the devil, then you are the devil incarnate!"
Chauncey paled at her words, but turned away. Seeing enough, Rixon threw the boy over his shoulder, and we left.
Chauncey staggered into the barn, finally finding Barnabas hiding asleep in the hay.
"Well, well Chauncey. I've seen some pretty disgusting things, but I'd have to say your little show of hypocrisy tonight topped them all." I said, leaning over the child. I looked him in the eye; he seemed to be in shock. "Let us contemplate; if Elizabeth Underwood is going to Hell, then your mother must also be, considering she gave birth to you. Sex with a demon. Willfully submitted to the devil. Or will you say that isn't true?" I asked, because he'd started to question my words. "The reality is, Chauncey, you're more of a demon than Elizabeth Underwood ever was. All you've accomplished tonight is killing an innocent woman, and depriving a child of its mother."
I could tell that my words affected him. He fell to the ground, curling up around his knees. I walked past him.
"Still, you've helped me thwart an enemy of mine, so I thank you." Chauncey made a gurgling sound in his throat, and I chuckled silently.
"And here you thought I was a monster for Katharine, yet you went in haste to do the same thing. Except, in your case, the woman was innocent." I looked back at Barnabas, and back to Chauncey.
"How will you explain to this little boy that you killed his mother? He saw what you did tonight; I made sure he was perfectly aware."
He swung at my legs. I simply moved, and began to saunter out. Looking at the sky, I saw that the moon was almost completely waned. I turned back.
"Cheshvan approaches. I expect you here." Chauncey lifted his head, and I looked into his eyes. Already I could see the familiar demons floating inside of them.
"Why must you torment me? What have I done to deserve the pain you put me through?" he asked me intensely. "Why can't you take my body, and leave me be for the rest of the time? Why am I so forsaken?"
My eyes fell at his words. When I spoke, I spoke from a dark and hollow space inside of myself.
"You, and the rest of your breed, were destined to be forsaken. You are nothing but a mistake; an abomination produced by the pride of fallen angels. Our punishment is our lack of ability to feel. Consider it your punishment for existing." I left him there, withering at my harsh words. I couldn't help but feel bitterness at my own lot; the reality was that fallen angels, myself included, wanted what the Nephilim had. Immortal life, and the ability to feel. They had it all, without any sort of suffering. They were simply born with it! By taking over his body, I was getting back at the archangels, at life, at suffering. I couldn't bring myself to feel pity for him; I was too selfish.