Impossible

11

Joshua was awoken harshly again, his arm pulled sharply, and he was dragged out of his bed, and he stumbled and gasped.

There was little time for him to wake up fully and dig his heels into the ground before he was brought outside and flung to the floor. He choked, gasping, and looked up at the priest standing before him.

"You," He hissed, and Joshua reeled back in fear, "We gave you so many chances, we looked on the brighter side when we thought of accusing you of witchcraft, but now, to find you in bed with another man-"

His face fell, he felt sick to the stomach. "No! Please I-"

"We gave you your chances. We let you take the route you chose, the route of sin. You condemned yourself with your disgusting ways. Now we take you to burn, and burn for the rest of eternity."

"No..." He whispered and dug his feet into the ground as they pulled him, protesting and squirming, "No Father please, it isn't what it looks like, I swear."

The priest said nothing, simply brandishing a cross towards him as if he was the devil himself, and Joshua backed away, thinking he was going to stab him with it.

But he was still pulled, though he fought, tears overflowing and spilling down his cheeks. His heart sank though when he saw the stake, it was as if it was finally kicking in.

He was to follow the same fate as his dear Samuel.

He screamed, fighting back. He fought desperately at the restraints, every inch of human decency leaving him. He cried and lashed out at the person attempting to try him to the stake, scratching wildly at their face and trying to run from it, but he froze in shock, and he saw what he had done.

The person had collapsed on the floor, their face a messy tangle of blood and flesh. He couldn't move, as if flashing back to reality, unable to comprehend the damage he had caused. He had never done anything like that. He was 'pure' and had never caused any damage to anyone purposefully. And unfortunately, this response left him vulnerable enough to be trussed up to the stake.

He cried out and tugged at the restraints, but his face whipped up and the reflection of it glinted in his dark, panicking eyes.

"Please," He pleaded, tears falling down his face as he saw the fire. They paid no attention to him or his desperate cries to spare him, and the fire flickered and blazed around his feet. He screamed, and desperately struggled against his restraints, despairing.

But there was little hope left, and he felt the fire reach his legs.

He gave up, screaming and crying out. He felt like an object, being out on display for these peoples' pure entertainment.

Sobbing, turning his face upwards to the heavens. He had never felt pain like it. He choked as the flames reached his hands, there was little hope left for him now.

"Oh Lord, forgive me," He begged, a final plea, praying like he always used to do, "I was only a boy, I never meant to sin. Please, I beg of you, forgive my sins, do not condemn me for my accidents." A sob racked his body, and he was almost unable to speak. He gasped. "Please, let it be fast."

And with that, as if He had heard his cries, the flames flew upward, and when they fell, he was nowhere to be seen. And no matter how hard the townspeople tried, they could not find his body, or any remnants of it, nor could they put out the fire. It was left to burn for the rest of eternity.

The priest killed himself only a few days later.