~Cruor~

Vamptember day 16 ~ Witch trial

All of Europe was in a frenzy due to the fear of witches.

You knew you had to keep your affair hidden, lest you would be next upon the pyre. "My dear, what's bothering you?" His voice was soft as his fingers ran through your hair. His red eyes and sharp fangs would have him immediately staked through the heart if the townsfolk could do anything about it. "If it is a man demanding your hand in marriage, i will end them for you." He smiled as he pulled you closer to his chest as the two of you laid together. "Though i doubt they would, considering the many times we shared a bed together."

"Anton," you lightly huffed, pushing the undead Dutchman against his chest. "I'm honest," he mumbled as he kissed the side of your head. "Why don't we move away from all this together, schat?" Anton offered as he brushed his hand through his slightly messy blonde hair. "A little cottage in the woods... a few children here and there." He gently rubbed your lower back, as he envisioned your life together. 

The peaceful night was interrupted as banging sounded on the door. Anton froze, a fearful look in his eyes. You barely had a chance to react as the door burst open. You got out of bed, opening the window to usher your secret lover out. Anton quickly put on his clogs before climbing out the window. He wasn't fast enough as the door burst open, revealing some of the townsfolk, weapons and pitch forks in hand. Anton's eyes widened as he glanced at you, eyes full of sorrow before he made his escape. You on the other hand, weren't so lucky.  They cursed at you, calling you a harlot amongst other things. Pleading and crying wouldn't save you as you were dragged out of your house.

That was only three days ago, yet your verdict had already been given. One of the witch hunters sat across from you, an angered look on his face. "I am asking politely, wench. Did you lay with the devil?" You scoffed. "He's not the devil," you repeated. The man leaned in closer. "Then who was he?" You just glared at him, refusing him the satisfaction of answering the question. As much as you felt upset Anton had left, you knew there was nothing he could have done to save you. "Answer me," your interrogator hissed at you. "Why should i?" Your mockery earned you a slap to the face. "Do not mock me, i will not allow you to harm this town. We should have known you were up to no good since you walked in this place." You held your cheek, tasting some of your own blood on your tongue.

The man stood up, walking to the others who had gathered around. "She will be burned tonight." The cheering and laughter made you feel sick to your stomach. For people considering themselves good people, they behaved like the very demons they so much feared. Items were thrown at you, and you curled up. All you could do now was pray that the smoke suffocated you before the fire touched your skin.

When the sun began to set, the people wasted no time dragging you out of the cell. Curses were thrown at you and some people provoked you with sharp needles. People you had thought your friend. You refused to speak, refusing to give them the satisfaction of your cries as your face remained stoic. They bound you to the pyre and made a whole show of passing the torch. As you looked to the crowd, you saw a familiar face. The pale face of Anton, tears streaming down his face as his head was covered by a dark hood. As the dry hay by your feet was set ablaze, that expression of his turned to rage. He came up behind the priest, before losing himself completely and sinking his teeth into him.

The crowds cheers turned to shouts and screams off horror as your lover tore out parts of the old mans throat. Anton didn't seem to hear them, though. He winced as fire scorched his flesh, trying to free you from your bindings.  When you began to choke, smoke and ash filling your lungs, he finally broke as he pressed his lips to yours.

If you were to perish, he was going with you.