Skip to main content

NO MERCY

 


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. 

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Pic Courtesy:Image by Dorothe from Pixabay

Comments

  1. As someone who has spent most of his professional writing career writing about witches I highly approve of the torch and pitchfork crowd getting what is due.
    --
    Tim Brannan, The Other Side blog
    2024 A to Z of Dungeons & Dragons, Celebrating 50 Years of D&D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Sir 🙏🏻
      Your kind words mean a lot

      Delete
  2. Oh! I like the twist. Mercy granted.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Moxie N' Mettle

                                MOXIE N' METTLE  In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles… Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,  There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,  Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage Spanning my wings as a raging fire  Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.  Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination! I will be at my own pace I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll...

CLOGYRNACH ( Day 8, Soul Craft Poetry)

                          CLOGYRNACH  How time flies, they grow up too soon When they'd bawled you'd shown them the moon Your mirror image Feels she's in a cage Stomping rage! 'Teen Typhoon' Pic Courtesy: Soul Craft  ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Clogyrnach, Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme: Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 2: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 3: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 4: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 5: 3 syllables with a b rhyme Line 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme.

WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST AWAKENS( DAY 22, LETTER W)

                         CHAPTER 21  WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST                                   AWAKENS  Dawn was hours away, but nobody at Meadow Brook Cottage was sleeping.   The stew was gone. The bread was devoured. The porridge pot was polished clean. The berry tart for dessert existed only as stains on Dapper’s snout. Tasha slept by the hearth, her milk cup clutched to her like a shield. The Knights Army sat around the scarred oak table, full-bellied and hollow-eyed, because Papa Koala’s words were still heavy in the air. As they pored over the map, Tasha roused from her sleep and knocked over her milk cup. Her milk cup rolled across the floorboards, hit the table and stopped dead against the oaken leg directly under the crystal apple. Both the objects buzzed in sync. Tasha whimpered in her sleep and t...

JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS ( DAY 23, LETTER J)

                            CHAPTER 22           JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS  The plan was set. With a departure set before daybreak they would easily avoid the pig patrols, reaching Mistwood Shadow Glade before the Mighty Boar knew their agenda.  As they filed out to grab minimal winks of sleep that wouldn’t come, the crystal apple sat alone in the dark, throwing tiny red constellations across the ceiling in the library. Watching. Waiting. They packed ammo for the battle of the ages.  "Mistwood Shadow Glade is three days away. Day one: Cross the dell before twilight or the pig scouts sniff out your wake.  Day Two: Skirt around the Bone Fields. Better still, avoid it altogether! We take shortcuts through low lying rivers. Water hides our scent. Day three: Reach the fringes of the Mistwood Shadow Glade. Keep the shards from getting activated along the way. No fires after dusk. ...

GATES TO THE VAULT( DAY 24, LETTER G)

                         CHAPTER 23                  GATES TO THE VAULT  Three days of trudging, trekking and aching muscles later, the cozy, sunlit, honeyed woods of Bramble Shire were miles behind them.  At the edge of the deep, fog covered forest, a wispy figure appeared before them –The Guardian Maiden, Blaire barricading their way. "What do you seek in Mistwood Shadow Glade?" Her voice was the soft breeze that twirled around them. Ethereal!  Hopper stepped forward gingerly. "The Locke Jewel. The last shard to piece together the Starwood Crystal. Where’s it hidden?" Blaire pursed her lips. "I’ll trade, as you know. Tell me your deepest secret. One you’d kill to hide." Chipper tensed. Hopper hesitated. There was a lot at stake, when she prodded, “The Pigs are closing in. Time is of the essence here, Rabbit ! If you don’t choose, you lose." Papa Koala warned, " ...