Writing Exercises

Natural Born Sinner

With the wonderful season of Halloween coming up I just HAD to do the two things that I must every year. One- watch Nightmare before Christmas, and two- write scary fics! Here is the second scary fic of this month (but not the second scary fic in this book because all I write is horror!). Enjoy!

P.S. Ok yeah Halloween is over now. I meant to post this a few weeks ago. Whoops! But hey, I'm alive! Hi new followers! :)

~Blaze

Natural Born Sinner

She crouched on the ground, back pressed against the cold, hard concrete wall. Her hair was matted, falling in thick clumps around her head and giving her a wild, untame look. Her eyes were wide and red, bloodshot from crying. If she could speak, her screams would be hoarse and muted, her throat rubbed raw and her neck rimmed red from where the hands had grasped her throat.

She watched as they approached her, the prim and proper men of the town, all old, graying bearded men with judgement painted on their faces. Each of them dressed in their own fancy, bright colored robes that made a sharp contrast against their white beards and hard dark stares. Each one carried a stone the size of their palm, and if you looked close enough, you could see that each had a look of sick glee in their eyes.

Perhaps it would be easier to die here. Just a few well placed throws and it could all be over. Her traitorous mind whispered. But a small part of her soul shivered at the thought. I am young. It would be a waste.....right?

She had no further time to contemplate her resolve. As one took a step forward she found her view encompassed by a rich, black cloak. Someone was standing in front of her.

"In the name of the Lord I ask you to reconsider." He said. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Her last hope, her last chance of survival stood here, the beacon of light against the forms of the devil incarnate who stood ready to cast her to oblivion long before her time.

"Why do you stand in front of her? Father, you have seen her witchery, watched her befoul the world with her enchantments and evil. We have ignored it for far too long. The possession that Arnold described last night was the last straw. He saw how she contorted and writhed, lashing out as he tried to help her." One of the old men, this one in a deep purple robe, stood forward to speak calmly to the priest. A brief interlude before her demise.

I am not possessed! I have done no witch craft! He lies! After he came onto me and was rejected, just as every old man in this town did, it was no wonder that they would try to take their revenge! She thought wildly. Her mouth opened as if to speak her mind, but it closed just as quickly when she felt the hand of the priest on her arm.

"He who is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." Was all that he said. And he waited. They shifted, but none stood forward. "He who has not come to the church for sanctuary, let him cast before the others!"

She felt her breath catch. So the priest had seen! He had noticed her running desperately towards the entrance of the church seeking any salvation that she could.

When they continued to stand and stare, she felt the small sliver of hope within her grow to a dangerous size. She saw the robes of the priest shift as he relaxed, his minute movements a beacon for her soul.

"Well then I suppose that I can throw first." Said a voice behind the crowd. She peered out from behind his robes and gasped, bowing her head. The man from the other day? The one who had been so filthy, so deranged, who she had simply nudged while running from the authority, he was the mayor of the town?

He had the audacity to claim to be without sin?

No one will go against him. Why would they? This is perfect for them, She realized when the men across from her looked up in glee.

The balloon inside her deflated, falling, never to return as her mind finally gave up and sank like a stone within her.