Witch Hunt

Come, listen to this very sad story. Come, don’t forget to prepare a handkerchief.
I’ve heard that there was witch ashore. And it seems that she fell in love with a certain prince.

“When I am with you, it feels like we have some sort of magic, the kind that stops time”, the prince said. The simple maiden smiled her big smile towards him.
“Even though I am just a simple maiden, will you still love me?” that is what she asked. The only thing the prince did was to smile at her and nodded, that was all he needed to do. But in the shadows a figure lurked, watching them with envy. In her hand she held a note. She only stood there, in between two houses in a small alley, in the shadows. In her hand, clutching a cross.
Embracing the cross she looks up in the red burning sky, with a simple tear flowing down her cheek.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!”
The prayers for her soul have already flown by, gone from her saviour. Her mouth opens in terror and with a crack in her voice.
“Opus transit in otium!” With a shout to the people, the one in the shadow says to, lighten the flames of hatred.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!”
She who embraces he cross, life is hanging on a thread. Shouts back at the people with a glimpse of a tear in her eye.
“La mortz est super nos!”

Come, let’s have a look at the blood burning sky. Come, and why should we forget the flames of justice? I’ve heard that there is a witch ashore. Deceived a certain prince, she seems to have done.
The maiden with the long brown flowing hair looked worrying at the sky. It was getting late, and she couldn’t stay.
“I’m so very sorry my prince, but I haft to go”, she told him. The prince, who was very understanding, let her leave. But as soon has he had done so, the one in the green cape in the shadows stepped out from her hiding place.
“The magic of a captured human has captured you, has made all the happy times go away”, is what she said. She held up the note she had in her hand, a picture of the maiden in the middle and on the top of the paper it was saying the one word no one wanted to see: Witch.
Tied to a cross, the devil’s seeking you.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!”
Before she screams out her evil spell
“Virtus migrat in vitium!”
This crime had become a trial of Witchcraft.
“Nunc cunta rerum debita!
One in the crowd shouted out at the people and even so the victim would hear.
“Release the sacred flame!”
Tied to the cross she shouts back at them.
“Exorbitan a semita!” Spreading into the sky just a humans foolishness. The crowd watching the flames continues to shout.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!” The burning continues to blend with the blood burning sky.
“La mortz est super nos!”
“Thank you”, she said to the sailor. “For helping me ashore” she continued. The sailor only smiled and she started to walk. Suddenly the wind took a hold of her hat and it blew away. She gasped and ran after it. She stopped when she saw someone catch it. His hair was short and dark black. As the night sky. It was her prince.
“Thank you”, she said and he smiled at her. In the back of them the one in green still is watching them. Her face is hoping for something. She turned around and ran towards the church. Inside she took a hold of her cross around her neck and prayed. Her face full of envy and hope.
“When we forget the magic that stops time”, the prince said his face was smiling, “The times of joy, will have already passed by”, and now he was crying he grabbed the maidens hair and took out a knife. He cut straight through her beautiful hair. And all she could do was just stand there, with chock and fear in her eyes.
Held by a cross the maiden’s seeking the sky high.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!” The voices of her prayers have gone somewhere else, than where they should.
“Opus transit in otium!” If this love is invited by black magic,
“Nunc cunta rerum debita!” Then release the flames made by hatred. The maiden threw her head backwards with a scream.
“Exorbitan a semita!” This burning red almost like flames. And out of her back a big pair of black wings grew out.
“Penitenziagite, Penitenziagite!” Never forget the reason for these tears or blood, the maiden tells herself.
“La mortz est super nos!”
The maiden flew away up high in the sky. The priest in green had a chocked look in her eyes and a glittering tear was starting to find the way out. The prince looked up in the sky, he’s eyes followed one of the feathers that slowly surfed down towards the ground and then landed in his hand.
She was free.
The End


Page 1
Penitenziagite – Repent
Opus transit in otium – Devotion had become an Oblivion
La mortz est super nos – Death shall come to us all
Virtus migrat in vitium – Virtue had become vice
Page 2
Nunc cunta rerum debita – Once and for all
Exorbitan a semita – The streets is on verse of Madness

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2.8/5 (27 röster)
Witch Hunt, 2.8 out of 5 based on 27 ratings

1 kommentar

  1. tora Skriver:

    Like it very much and i am from sweaden! maby you to but this was the best story ever!

    VA:F [1.9.11_1134]
    Rating: 3.0/5 (1 röst cast)

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