-
Dark Romance x Drama x Low Fantasy x Enemies/Strangers-to-Lover
Oops, she wasn't a witch after all, so she was burned for nothing.
The fact that her angry words nevertheless condemned the traitorous man to live forever,
fall in love, and extinguish that love with his own hands were merely minor side effects.
✩｡:*•.───── ★ ─────.•*:｡✩
Haunted Heart
Year 1585
Her skin was soft and smooth, thanks to rose water, as she explained to me. Her hair was shiny and healthy and smelled wonderful, thanks to honey and lavender. Her teeth were clean and white; the clay worked wonders. And she smelled as pleasant as a whole sea of flowers, thanks to the oil behind her ears.
She felt warm and feminine under my hands as I pulled her closer to me in my half-sleep. She laughed a little when my beard tickled her neck, but at the same time she stretched her neck to give my lips more space.
“You're incorrigible,” she whispered and finally turned to me. Her eyes sought mine. “And you are mine.” Her supple hand found my cheek and she breathed a kiss on my lips. “I love you so much that my heart overflows.”
I couldn't reply, and I told myself it was because of the sudden noise building up outside her hut.
“Get out, you witch!” someone yelled. “We know you're in there!”
“Release the poor soul you're holding captive!” someone else shouted.
“Come out and meet your Creator, whom you shamefully betrayed for Satan!”
Panic distorted her beautiful features and we both jumped up from our sleeping place. “I have to hide!” she whispered hurriedly, reaching for her robe. “You... you have to say I'm not here. You have to distract them, okay? And when they're gone, we'll flee. Just the two of us. We've been here far too long.”
I did not share her haste, but calmly pulled on my pants. “No.”
That one word caused her to pause, half-dressed and puzzled, and look at me in surprise. It took an unusually long time for realization, then shock, and finally deep betrayal to distort her face.
She gasped in surprise, but I couldn't tell if it was because of my action or because of the rough hands that now grabbed her after the farmers had forced their way into the hut.
“Witch!” – “Burn her!” – “She deserves nothing less.” – “Let's show her God.” – “Jesus will judge her.” – “Witch!” – “Witch!” – “Kill her!”
She was mercilessly dragged out of the hut, and I followed at a respectful distance, my gaze impassive. All the tinctures, the knowledge of plants, the healing herbs... no, she did not deserve my pity. She had brought this upon herself.
“You!” she shouted above the general noise. A circle had formed and someone slipped a rope over her head. The rope was far too rough for her delicate skin. Torchlight illuminated her half-naked body, on which the first bruises and scratches were beginning to show.
“You!” she shouted again, pointing her finger at me. “I expected nothing else from those God-fearing fools... but you! You know me! You know I'm not a witch! You said you loved me?!”
Thoughtfully, I tilted my head to one side and looked her over. “You must have... cursed me.”
I had never seen her so angry and desperate at the same time. But instead of screaming or crying, she wasted her last breaths raising her voice and shrieking:
"I loved you, but now I curse you! Oh, you will suffer, suffer so! You shall find no peace for eternity, and the horrible darkness within you shall grow and thrive. Your black heart shall experience the same grief you inflict on me. You will find her, the one person you truly love, and you will destroy her with your own hands!" A hysterical laugh burst from her throat.
“You are powerless! Your presence is pure poison, but you will be unable to keep her away. I condemn you to love and murder, just as you murder me. Suffering, nothing but suffering for you!”
Then her words finally fell silent as a sack was placed over her head and she was dragged to the stake.
Present
Looking back, she wasn't a witch after all. Sorry, my mistake. The Enlightenment worked its magic and the church stopped burning witches. I couldn't care less.
Why should I? The words spoken in anger and hatred had had their effect and condemned me to eternal life and youth. Fuck, yes!
At first confused, then desperate, and finally weary of life, I had finally left all these character flaws behind me. I enjoyed my infinite time with all the vices, opportunities, and sins that human life had to offer.
So actually... she had been a witch after all. A stupid witch, because only two of her four points had come true: I lived forever and I enjoyed the growing darkness within me. A god complex, perhaps. But I loved no one and I certainly didn't kill anyone unintentionally – only intentionally, of course.
“Hey, hey, look at her!” One of my business partners nudged me roughly in the upper arm with his elbow. It was easy to be rich when you had an eternity to do it. He drew my attention away from my smartphone and toward the stage. “Isn't she beautiful? She's welcome to writhe around on my pole sometime.”
“No touching, you know that,” I replied coldly. This expensive, upscale strip club was very strict about its policy. “If you need something to fuck, I'll get you someone else.” But he had long since stopped listening to me and was instead watching the dancer's graceful movements.
“Would you like another drink?” The lovely voice of a waitress broke through the sensual music. I looked up.
She was new. New was interesting. I hadn't had new yet.
With newly kindled interest, I thoughtfully tilted my head to the side and sized her up.
Fuck the policy.
✩｡:*•.───── ★ ─────.•*:｡✩
© Midnightmuse
1x1 private only ★ 3rd person ★ long or short term ★ regular texts are welcome ★ 150-600+ words (adjustable) ★ any existing names & descriptions within the text are placeholders
RP via messages – the groups on my profile are only for the presentation of ideas.
Let's continue the story, develop ideas, characters and hype together!
