Hellooo! Yeah, this is completely unusual. Yesterday I was trying to catch Katy Perry's California Gurls on the radio when bam!, an Alice-like vision. I saw it all so clearly... I couldn't resist the temptation of writing this. I wanted to wait a little longer to post it, but, ah, you know... Enjoy!
The Lord's Justice
All I can hear is the screaming. It seems every single person from this village is congregated in the main square tonight. The furious cries rise in the air.
"Witch, witch!" they roar. "Witch, witch, witch!"
A burning, again. Sometimes I leave my home in Volterra and wander around these villages, only for the fascinating spectacle that is the human being. This time they have gone beyond imagination. The clock says it is almost midnight, yet the place is anything but dark. It is as if the flames fly from the centre of the square to the clouds. The sky is bleeding tonight.
"She sleeps with the devil!"
"Creature from hell!"
"May God's law punish her for eternity!"
I had never witnessed such savagery before. True, there are more people burned here than in any other village of Italy, but the crowd had never punished anyone with this intensity. They are so eager, so bloodthirsty, that they prepared her burning stake before bringing her. Seen from here, the fire forms a semi-circle, the stake right in the middle. They will tie her and then close her hell.
Finally she arrives. The screams increase, louder and wilder now that what seems a dozen hooded priests drag a tiny, small creature, hooded as well. They unveil her. Her face, lit by the torches and her own pyre, is swollen and bruised; her loose, golden hair dirty with her own blood. By the shaking way she moves I see that she has been tortured; who knows what they did to her. But behind her wounds I see that she is extremely beautiful. Sweet, pure. This child just cannot be a witch. An angel, more likely. She looks down, too scared to face the multitude.
"May she rot in hell!"
"Bruciarla! Burn her!"
One of her torturers slaps her and pulls her by the hair so she looks up.
"Are you repentant now, witch?"
"Yes, yes," she says feebly.
"Kiss the cross and entrust yourself to the Lord."
She presses her lips to the golden object and I hear her whisper a quick prayer. They are about to throw her to the flames when a new mass of priests appears.
"We found the other one!" they announce.
They reveal the new victim. At the sight of him the girl loses all composure.
"No! Please! Not him! Please!" she implores, with the strenght found in her suffering.
"Shut up!" and they hit her again.
I focus on the newcomer. He is just as beautiful as the girl, and bears the same marks of torture. It is obvious that they are brother and sister, twins, perhaps. These are not devils, they are gods. And I can see that their unnatural beauty is what brought them their disgrace. In the last minutes of their lives they beg, they implore, they supplicate, not for themselves, but for each other.
"Please! Let him go! He's innocent!"
"Don't hurt her! Burn me, burn me, not her!"
"He's not the one you want!"
"She's got nothing to do with this!"
"Look at them," says the bishop. "They bear Satan's mark in their faces. Brother and sister, united in profane embrace."
"Only God can punish, only God can forgive. Only His love will redeem these sinners. May He have mercy on their souls. Burn them both!"
The crowd roars.
"No! Please!" begs the boy. "Jane! Jane!"
"Alec!" she sobs. "Alec, no!"
They tie them to the stake and the circle is closed.
God's Justice has been applied. As soon as the angels catch fire the crowd disperses. So much for their punishment, and they leave when the flames are just licking their way up. Humans. Only the priests remain, mixing their prayers with the angels' screams. But eventually they leave, too. It is then when I approach.
I find a hole in the ardent circle and reach them. I want to give them a proper burial, that is all. Of course, I will not bury them with the other mundane monsters that destroyed them, they deserve their own sanctuary. Therefore, I take them and carry them to a nearby garden. And just when I lay them on the grass the most miraculous thing occurs.
They held hands as they burned, and they are still together in this moment. But their intertwined fingers curl... now. They are alive! Alive, after everything that happened! They are alive! Such a wonder.
"Alec..." mumbles the girl.
"Jane..." he answers weakly. Their hold on each other becomes tighter.
Their clothes and bodies are charred, yet somehow their faces remain untouched. Their beauty is truly exquisite, beyond compare, and certainly something out of this world. I have never seen something like this. Ever. The opportunity is too precious to let it go; these angels have fought so hard for their lives that they deserve to keep them forever. With such strenght, such passion, I have no doubts these twins will have talents unheard of, they will be powerful beyond measure. They will be dazzling, the jewels of my collection.
I bite into their charred flesh. They barely seem to notice, they are in so much pain anyway. But after a while the girl, Jane, does feel the process.
"Not again," she says in a horrified whisper. "Not again, not again..."
I try to soothe her by caressing her flawless cheek and her bloody hair. I watch them until the sun starts to shine. Then I take them with me to Volterra, to paradise, where they will be able to start again, perfect immortals with a glorious eternity ahead of them. Their life begins now.