Title: Time of Fire
Disclaimer: If I said that I owned the characters, do you think they would pay me? In that case: Mutant Enemy owns Buffy & Friends. All I own is my highly faulty computer
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Notta
Summary: An AU story that puts our favorite witches back in the time of the witch trials, among other places.
Notes: This is really just an introduction, and a bit of a confusing one at that. Nevertheless, bear with me and I’ll have a more coherent chapter out in no time.
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The screams echoed across the land. Flames sprang to life and blades gleamed in the pale moonlight. A singular mass of bodies was barely visible under their dark cloaks, weaving in the faint evening breeze. Heavy boots stirred the dirt underfoot heedlessly. Doors splintered under the heavy assaults by ax and ram. Struggling forms were quickly subdued and bound, tossed into the crowd like useless feed before the flow continued once more.
No window along the path of destruction was left un-shattered. Wordless cries arose savagely as though from a pack of hungry animals. The limp and bloodied bodies of those they gathered dragged carelessly along even as yet more were gathered and added.
       
At last the mass reached its final destination – a pitiful dwelling that fairly hummed with power. Even as they attacked viciously and without thought, a single small figure emerged from inside the shapeless shack. Her glowing hair seemed to fly about like the flame it so resembled. Eyes shown like black coal that crackled with unimaginable energy. With short steps she advanced, looming larger every inch closer she came. The very air in her vicinity glowed and wavered.
Like ice before a flame, the mass fell back before the awesome sight. Lips twisted in anger and disgust. Mercilessly she unleashed herself upon them. Torches exploded into flares of sparks that blinded for a moment before attacking those that would wield them.
The screaming had changed now. No longer the few single protesting, but the combined screams of pure and unrivaled terror. Mud began to slow the escape of those that struggled away from the vision of horror that approached as the blood of the fallen mingled with the loose dirt. Fingers grappled ineffectively at the ground, but were stilled under the feet of their owner’s compatriots. As the now-prey fled, an ear-splitting snarl more primal than anything ever before heard by human ears pierced the night and gripped the soul.
Black boots crushed bones as she moved after the chaotic mob with clear intent still gleaming in her depthless sockets. The recently collected captives now lay forgotten - those awake unable to even scream through their bindings. Many lowered their eyes and allowed tears to fall in mourning for the loss of so many by one who had so recently stood among them. More of the townspeople hit the ground with every moment.
Gliding above the ground as though carried on the shoulders of the devil himself, she closed on the focus of her fury – a single small man cowering amongst the fallen and muck. The pudgy priest clutched at the heavy cross on his breast vainly with every inch she advanced. In her eyes he saw his death without question or remorse. His incoherent prayers were lost in the crescendo of howling winds snapping at him.
Unable to move from his doom, he only watched until a cold hand gripped his face with inhuman force. Suddenly he found himself eye to eye with the face of a nightmare. His pleas for mercy fell upon uncaring ears and his struggling only brought an arctic smile laced with jagged pain.
With a sudden jerk he found his life being ripped brutally away. The pain was more profound than any human had ever been intended to endure, but her vengeance would not allow him to be free of that pain until every drop of the very essence that made him had been lost unto the increasingly frigid air. His features contorted into a twisted macabre of anything ever having been human as the last breath of his soul was cleaved away.
Depleted and sated, his executioner dropped his disgustingly soiled mass to the filth he had groveled amongst. A pointed sole connected sharply to his temple, crushing it, moments before the piercing shaft of an arrow brought her down alongside the cleric.