Reincarnated Revenge

            Kiana re-entered the village of Winchester with the familiar taste of burning flesh against the back of her throat. Her eyes watered with the sting of smoke from the burning heap of corpses that were allowed to blister late into the night and well into the rise of the sun. They wouldn't stop until they were pure of all that was unclean- obsessed with the moral teachings of their faith. The truth is they were afraid; afraid of losing control. As Kiana stepped on the grey ashes that coated the cold firm ground she created dust, thick and choking. Since she had fled there had been many more, so many more. Kiana clenched her ragtag doll that never left her side and moved forward.

Kiana was different from the others in Winchester, which was not to her advantage years ago, and by the terrifying taste that tickled her tongue she knew her appearance would stir up the same hate that she had known for many years. Kiana was dressed in rags, torn and withered. Her face was dark, yet she looked pale, defeated. Her eyes were bright green which glowed amongst her darker and less vibrant features. She hobbled with a limp, favouring her left side- an old injury. Her hair was not light, smooth, or shiny like most of the women in Winchester. It was dark, dry and curled aggressively into stiff spirals, sprouting out on end as if she had been struck with the lightening God sends down when you have betrayed Him. She had once covered this town like ivy that chocked the village of its cleanliness, and now she was ready to face her past once more. Kiana would choke the village once again, with her poisonous ungodly ivy.

She felt her body begin to cramp and she held her stomach; sharp pains filled her abdomen and travelled her veins like life. Kiana knew it had already started, she only needed to survive the villagers long enough to find the daughters she was looking for.

The villagers did not take to Kiana's passing through kindly, and insisted that she was a thief or a gypsy, or worse- a witch, straight from the bowls of hell sent to disrupt their holy wholesome lives. Although Kiana kept her distance and did not interfere with the villagers, she was still feared and loathed by many.

There was a need for order and purity in Winchester, both of which Kiana did not fester up to in their eyes. Every detail of their town was meticulously kept- each home looked identical, bland two story buildings with white washed siding, black framed windows, and a large wooden front door holding the exact same round brass handles on every one. All in neat systematic lines with front porches and white banister, the houses stood strong and in unison, a force rarely to be won over.

The town church stood to the right of the lines of houses, distinct yet still just as plain and unexcited looking. The people of Winchester were spiritually devoted, pious people who prayed often in fear. Anyone who strayed from their perfectly structured lives, would be destroyed, often burning them back into the ground so that they could carry on with their unadulterated, uncontaminated lives.

With nowhere to go and no money to build a home, Kiana began to wander into the nearby forest, isolating herself but still keeping a presence. As she remembered the villagers snarling glares Kiana forced herself deeper into the woods and out of sight. This would give her more time to let her body fill out.

There was a familiarity about Kiana that no one spoke of, like the townspeople had seen her before, but they hadn't, not Kiana. Reverend Thomas in particular could not shake this acquainted feeling that crept up his spine, past his white collar, up his head and attached itself to the area behind his eyes so that he could start to see Kiana for who she was. Fear grew behind the hate in the Reverend's eyes as he watched Kiana each morning holding her growing belly as she slyly moved in and out of the village in the early mornings before the sun rose. Curiosity began to grow amongst some of the most malleable of minds, the youth of Winchester.