Hypnos

He Shows No Mercy

(Hey y'all! I'm sorry it took me forever, but the renowned Lord Cheesepuff is not very interested in continuing this story, so I'm gonna try to update this whenever I can. So from here on out it's gonna be just me. Fun, right? But I probably won't update much. Maybe every two weeks. I'm slightly more focused on doing my singular account story :P I know, I'm biased. So, sorry for the delay, I'll go ahead and move on with the story.)

London was one of the dirtiest cities in all of England. Although it was by far the most popular, it was also by far the most insanitary. It was not a good place to constantly be on the streets, but Elizabeth Rolfe had no choice. Her surname said everything there was to know about her: peasant. She was a peasant in a poor society, living with a poor and abusive family. The family couldn't care less if she was to die. She had one purpose as far as they were concerned. What is this purpose you ask? It's quite simple really, marriage.

Despite the fact Elizabeth was young, twelve to be exact, she was very beautiful. Lovelier than even many of the ladies of the English court. She was many times scorned by the upper class because she was more beautiful than them. Several other peasants believed her to be a witch. No peasant of London could possibly look so pretty. However, the Rolfes tried to use this to their own advantage. Therefore, Elizabeth was told never to speak with young men. Ever. This way, no filthy peasant of their own class could sweep Elizabeth off her two feet, and make her run away, spoiling any chance of finding wealth.

Elizabeth was a rare beauty. Many would wear their hair up, and the upper class women enjoyed putting their hair in huge white wigs, (which Elizabeth thought was very ugly and irksome) but Elizabeth had long, flowing locks of black hair, nearly blue in color. Her eyes were a deep green, like the rolling meadows miles beyond the city. She had a clear, pure skin the color of flour, and had a personality so welcoming, even the animals of the city would flock to be near her. Unless, of course, they were women jealous of Elizabeth's great beauty.

Elizabeth's job was to go around the city, attempting to sell the rotted wares of the Rolfe family. She was taking her usual route through the city, when she saw a clearly drunk man walk up to her small wagon, which was falling apart.

"Nice wagon thou doest have," he spoke with a slur. "I had one like tha'. I was sittin' in moi mule one day." He started giggling like a milk maid. 

"My apologies, good sir, but I have things I simply must sell. God bless thee!" She told him with her tinkling voice.

"Where doest thou think thee is goin'?" He demanded in his drunken slur.

"I'm very sorry, s-sir, I  must go to the square to sell my goods..."

"Those aren't goods!" He yelled like a mad man. "Thee is sellin' the items of a witch! Thee is a good-fer-nothing witch!"

Unfortunately, this caught the attention of many of the women who desired to rid the world of Elizabeth Rolfe's good looks. As you could only imagine, they crowded around poor, frightened Elizabeth, and rummaged around through all her goods. Oh, now her family would be very angry at her! Starting a ruckus in the city, then bringing shame and disgrace to her family name! There must be some way to avoid all this mess!

"Step aside!" Yelled an angry guard. "What is all this about?" He shouted at them.

"This girl is a witch! She's selling charmed and bewitched items!" A random woman from the audience shouted back with equal vigor. 

"How can you prove this girl is a witch? Is there any items you could point out to me to show her acts of witchcraft?" Silence.

"Perhaps I could find something bewitched," spoke a young man with red hair.