Burned To Death

The piercing laughter of her stepsisters echoed through the small barn. Lilith swallowed hard, groaning in pain as she struggled to her feet. A shaky breath escaped her lips when she realized the laughter had stopped. Her heart sank as she lifted her gaze to them.

The pale expressions on their faces made her blood run cold.

"W-where's the injury on her head?" Prudence, the elder of the two, stammered, her wide eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets.

"I... it's gone. How did it heal so fast?" Penelope whispered, her gaze fixed on Lilith. She hadn't blinked in nearly ten seconds.

"You... you are a witch! There is possibly no other explanation. YOU ARE A WITCH!" Prudence shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Lilith. Her voice cracked with a mix of fear and fury.

"We must tell Father immediately. Let's get out of here before she curses us!" Penelope tugged urgently at her sister's sleeve, her eyes darting nervously toward Lilith.

"I... please—"

"Do not come near us, you servant of the devil! Witch!" Prudence screamed, cutting Lilith off before stomping away. Penelope hesitated for only a moment before trailing after her sister.

Lilith swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she bolted to her attic room to gather her few belongings. Her hands trembled with fear as she stuffed her worn dresses into a tattered shoulder bag. The day she had dreaded the most had finally come.

Within minutes, she was finished packing. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she cast one last tearful glance around the small, familiar space she had called home. Taking a shaky breath, she rushed out of the room.

Lilith stumbled down the creaky stairs and made her way to the front door. She pulled it open, but the sight before her made her knees buckle beneath her.

"Where do you think you are going, child?" Gerald, her stepfather, demanded, his bulky form blocking the doorway. His sharp eyes drifted to the bag clutched tightly at her side. "Are you running away? Looking for more people to curse with your bad luck?" The venom in his voice made Lilith instinctively take a few steps back.

"No... no, I promise, Father—"

Her words were cut short as her vision blurred, her cheek stinging from the force of Gerald's slap. The impact was so strong that if not for the table she grasped for support, she would have collapsed to the floor.

"I am not your father! I am no father to a cursed child!" Gerald bellowed, his nostrils flaring with rage. He stepped aside from the doorway, allowing three men in uniform to enter the house. Their attire marked them as guards.

"Please... please, Father, I am not a witch. I have nothing to do with the plague. You have to believe me," Lilith pleaded desperately, her voice trembling as she appealed to the man who had raised her for twenty years.

"Guards!" Gerald barked, ignoring her cries. "Take her to the dungeon, and do not give her a drop of water until the councilors decide how to punish her for her sins."

Without sparing her another glance, Gerald turned and walked over to his daughters, who clung to each other in feigned terror, their faces buried against his chest.

Lilith tried to pull away, but the men seized her effortlessly. Their rough hands gripped her arms as they began dragging her out of the house, completely ignoring her screams and desperate pleas.

"Father... Prudence... Penelope... please! You know I would never hurt anyone. You know me!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks as sweat dampened her forehead and neck.

Her words fell on deaf ears. The guards showed no mercy, their grip unrelenting. Despite her struggles, it took little effort for them to haul her to the dungeon, slamming the heavy door shut behind them.

Lilith tried to plead with the guards, but they shoved her into the cell without a word, locking the gate with a loud clang before walking away. The stench of rotten flesh and dried blood hit her immediately, making her gag. She doubled over and vomited everything she had eaten that day.

Shaking, she stumbled to the corner of the dark, damp room and buried her face in her hands, her sobs echoing off the cold stone walls.

She cried until her eyes were swollen and her body was too drained to produce another tear. Exhaustion eventually pulled her into a restless sleep.

When she woke hours later, the dungeon was cloaked in near darkness, save for a faint sliver of light filtering through the tiny window high above her. Lilith sat silently, staring at the cracked stone wall, her heart heavy with dread as she waited for morning to come and reveal what fate awaited her.

By the third day, Lilith lay sprawled on the cold, damp ground, weak and helpless, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. She had endured the dungeon's misery without a drop of water or a morsel of food. When the sound of the gates creaking open reached her ears, it was like the tolling of heaven's bells. She might have smiled if she'd had the strength.

Two guards stepped into the cell and seized her limp body without care or hesitation. They dragged her out roughly, ignoring her frailty and the days of starvation that had robbed her of her strength.

The massive grand doors groaned as they opened, revealing a circular chamber with five councilors seated around a large, imposing table. The room was silent and heavy with judgment.

Finally released from the guards' grip, Lilith collapsed to her knees, her body trembling. Her weary eyes scanned the room, stopping when they found a familiar figure, her mother, standing quietly at the far end of the chamber.

The tears and sorrow in her mother's eyes made Lilith look away. She couldn't bear the sight, it only deepened her despair. She knew there was nothing her mother could do to save her. Fear of her stepfather held her captive, as it did everyone in their household.

"I am sure you understand why you are here," Councilor Orion's stern voice broke the silence, echoing in the chamber. "We have deliberated extensively on the matter and determined the punishment that is best for you and the people of Eryndor. The Oracle has confirmed that you are the cause of the plague, and only with your removal will this terrible affliction be lifted."

"As the chief of Eryndor and the head of the Council, I hereby declare you, Lilith Sherburn, guilty of conspiracy with the devil and causing the deaths of eleven villagers. You are hereby sentenced to death," Gerald announced, his voice cold and unyielding. His eyes locked with Lilith's, devoid of any trace of remorse.

Lilith choked on her sobs, her chest tightening with unbearable pain. Hot tears of anger, anguish, and betrayal streamed down her cheeks. What had she done to deserve this? She had been nothing but kind and obedient her entire life.

Before she could say a word, rough hands seized her, dragging her out of the chamber. Her legs felt like lead as they pulled her toward a clearing that had already been prepared for her execution. The crowd gathered there buzzed with whispers and stares, but all Lilith could feel was the weight of despair crushing her soul.

"Strip her naked! She must be humiliated for all the pain she's caused us!" a man from the crowd shouted, his voice filled with venom. A few others muttered in agreement, their voices rising in hateful chorus.