NO MERCY!
#ArtoonsInnWritersRoom
Screaming and struggling, she was dragged to the pyre. The manic crowd hauled her over a stake and shackled her to it. As the men piled more bracken around her, the women hollered, "Burn! Heathen!"
There was a roar of victory as the lit torch was flung into the kindling. The flames danced with a celebration of its own along with the barbaric mob.
Her eyes were terror stricken and her mouth was frozen in a wordless gasp as the flames started lacing the tips of her boots and kept rising to her feet.
She strained against the metal, even as her wails and shrieks were drowned in a flood of clangor and ruckus.
The uproar and sacrificial drumbeats reached a blood-curdling crescendo to match the intensity of the raging fire.
Her lips formed unheard words—" I'm not a vampire. You're all mistaken. I don't deserve to die like this …please…
MERCY!…"
She was about to drift into oblivion when the black shapes shrouded the moon.
Cascades of water from above doused the frenzied inferno. Everything came to a standstill in a trice.
The cacophony…
The savagery…
The beserk dance…
The village folk covered their ears futilely as sirens of keening rent the air and shattered their eardrums. Even as they lay writhing on the ground, hundreds of winged goths in black capes descended on them with fangs bared and talons drawn.
In split seconds, tendons on their necks were ruptured, heads decapitated and innards were strewn around. Crimson rivulets flowed into the sacrificial pit.
"Mother, you called and we're all here. We owe you for protecting our coven from these infidels and raising us like your own."
Heaving a sigh of relief, she fell limply into the arms of Mercy, the vampiress of the Vlad Coven.
Pic Courtesy: ArtoonsInn Writers Room
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