Chapter 1

l:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

              The tiny girl, two months past her fifth year was hidden among the folds of dull skirts. Tears made streaks on her dirty face and her lips trembled as she awaited the judge’s decision. The whole village was there, the neighbours, the friends and strangers. Her parents stood on the makeshift podium facing the judge, waiting for their guaranteed beheading.

       The judge smirked and relished the looks of terrible pain on the couple’s faces. The woman was accused of performing magic, and though er husband was truly innocent, he would die with her. The children had been killed already, save for the youngest; she had disappeared and no officials could find her.

       After what seemed like an eternity, the judge hauled his plump body out of the chair and stood facing the crowd.

       “Today, we witness the trial of Marissa and Jonathan Stewart. Witnesses have reported that they have performed magic both inside and outside of their cottage, believing that no one could see them.” The judge paused, gasping for breath. “Their children have also been tainted; therefore, we have killed them. One girl remains. Her name is Angelica Stewart. Capture her dead or alive, and we shall reward you generously.”

       The crowd cheered uproariously, and the judge beamed. His gaze swept across the ever-growing crowd, passing over the little girl with her face in her hands. His double chin quivered and he rubbed his sausage hands together.

       “The decision is unanimous; Marissa and Jonathan Stewart are…guilty!”

       The crowd screamed and howled louder than before; slowly, they were ridding their village of tainted blood. The couple on the platform hung their heads, their last hope diminished. They had hoped that the judge, a long time friend of theirs would spare them. Up on the platform, the judge slowly turned back to the couple. With his back on the crowd, he frowned sadly, whispering a few parting words to Marissa and Jonathan: “I’m sorry.”

       The executioner wore a dirty sack over his head, two holes cut for his eyes. He wore gardener’s gloves, stained red from past executions. His step didn’t falter; he showed no emotion or regret. Slowly, he raised the axe. One dull thud, then a woman’s scream cut short. The crowd screaming their approval, and the headless bodies toppled to the blood-stained ground.

       Angelica screwed up her eyes when the axe had slit the air, but not fast enough. She saw enough to haunt her for the rest of her life. The terrible smell of blood as it gushed from her father’s headless body, the terror in her mother’s scream, and the bloodthirsty cries of the crowd. Her knees knocked together, turning her legs to jelly. Unable to stand, she fell to the ground. The numerous stones and pebbles pressed against her head uncomfortably, but she didn’t have the strength to pick herself up. Angelica closed her eyes, sinking into a comforting darkness. She didn’t know how long she lay there, but was rudely woken by rough hands picking her up.

       Reluctantly, she opened her tired eyes to glare at whoever had woken her. She found herself staring into a pair of startling grey eyes, so light they were almost silver.

Thanks :)

I should have put PG13 in the ti
tle x.x

Maor :U

Reluctantly, she opened her tired eyes to glare at whoever had woken her. She found herself staring into a pair of startling grey eyes, so light they were almost silver, edges crinkled in a slight smile. Angelica kicked at her captor, punching his hands with her tiny fists. The man laughed unexpectedly.   “Don’t fight me, child. I’m not here to hurt you.” His voice was soft and melodious, but it irritated Angelica. Her father had the same laugh.

       When Angelica fought even harder, he frowned in annoyance. “Come, Evelyn. I tire of this disobedience. Your mother and siblings are waiting for you. ”

       Angelica let out a cry, her limbs suddenly immobilized. All she could do was whimper pitifully as the man took her away. With a graceful motion, the man swung her up onto his shoulders. Angelica instinctively wrapped her arms around the man’s neck, trying not to fall off.

       “Not too tight, little pea,” he laughed. “I do not wish to be choked to death.”

       The man had a strange way of speaking. It wasn’t the coarse language the illiterate folks spoke, nor was it the bossy speech of the nobles and lords. The man had a soft, almost medieval way of talking. He walked quickly, gliding over the pathways like a ghost and making no sound whatsoever.  

Thanks guys <3

Midnight~ You're not being mean at all :D That's exactly the kind of critiwue I'm looking for ^-^

Lol, it's fine Eternity <3

I'm looking for both critique and comments, so everything helps.

Also, I like to know what reader's think to plan what's going to happen next.

Thanks Liish :)

I still can't seem to edit posts, so I'll have to do it once they get the thing fixed.

Angelica swayed slightly, slipping in and out of consciousness. The day had taken its toll on her; she could barely keep her swollen red eyes open for more than a minute.

       Behind closed eyelids, Angelica saw her parents’ deaths in slow motion, the scene replaying over and over again, tormenting her. She heard everything, saw everything and no matter how hard she tried to keep it out, they kept coming back: decapitated bodies stumbling zombie-like towards her, closing in ever so slowly. Blood oozed out of where their heads should have been, arms raised to pull her into her embrace. Angelica let out a shrill scream cut short by a hand flung forward to cover her mouth.

       Angelica’s eyes snapped open, darting wildly around looking for the zombies. Instead, the man, a woman, two boys and three girls peered at her anxiously. The woman removed her hand from Angelica’s mouth. The man who had carried her to this cottage exchanged a quick, meaningful look with the woman and she nodded sympathetically.

       “Good, you’re awake. You’ll probably never get over seeing your parents beheaded, but I want you to try and settle in. I am Cornelius Blackthorn, but everyone calls me Neil. Alayna is my wife, and a witch. The children are not our own, they too have had their parents executed or burned at stake. Fenecros and Brian are the oldest, they’re twins. Gwendolyn and Victoria are five years older than you, and Saria is the same age as you.”

       Five pairs of eyes peered curiously at Angelica. The twins were tall with thick blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Gwendolyn had brown eyes flecked with gold, chocolate coloured hair and a sharp chin. l:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Victoria had auburn hair, brown eyes and a wide mouth. The youngest of the four had wide set eyes, red lips and curly blonde hair. Angelica felt drab compared to the hauntingly beautiful children.

       “Angelica, while you’re here, we will have to call you by a different name to prevent people from suspecting. Will Evelyn do?” Blackthorn asked gently. “I will tell the villagers that I found you at an orphanage during my travels. Please stick to the story, but if possible, avoid talking about your past. The children have gotten used to calling Alayna and I ‘Mom and Dad’, but if you’re not comfortable with it, just call us Neil and Alayna.” 

       Angelica nodded, tears sliding down her face again. Wiping her eyes with a grimy sleeve, then struggled to sit up.

       “It hurts,” she whimpered. “I can see them so clearly. They’re coming to get me, like they got my mommy and daddy. All bloody, all torn up. Make it stop! Please make them stop coming!”

       Gwendolyn flopped down beside Angelica and put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, sis. It was like that for all of us too. It will get better soon, I know it will. Keep holding on, and never let go. If you let go of yourself, you’ll get lost and there’s no return from where you’ll go. Not even a witch will be able to bring you back. Not even Mom and she’s amazing at that kind of stuff.”

       Victoria grinned. “Mom’s teaching me and Gwen how to cook with magic. You should’ve seen what Gwen made!”

Angelica smiled slightly, her eyes a little glazed. In her mind, the judge and all the villagers were dying a slow, painful death. The screams of the dying her music to her ears, bright red blood splattered running down the streets like a river, gore bobbing to the surface. Angelica frowned as Neil’s voice pierced her bloody daydreams.

“Angelica, you will be sharing a room with Gwen and Tori if that’s okay with you. We have a spare bed in the cellar that we can bring up for you. I’m sure Gwen and Tori can find some extra blankets and pillows.”

Thanks Chlorine :D

I'll be sure to fix the mistakes ^-^

I'm not sure what I have planned for the judge, but I have an idea although I'm not sure if it'll work out as I hope.

Thanks Jac!

I'll update soon, I'm writing my application for the Writer's position :D