Story 3: the sisterhood of corruption
Seasons come, seasons go. All as god wills it. Winter is the current season, the sprinkling of snow on the ground, the lack of animal voices, the trees as bare as she was.
For Olivia is bare, saved for the rope binding her hands in front of her, the other end at the hands of an acolyte of the inquisition. The sounds of nature might not be around, but the jeering of the entire village was out in full force, hurling the hate of a thousand generations upon a target they're told to despise, as if they are merely meat puppets to be used by those that be.
For the discovery and exile of a witch is one of the few entertaining events for the village, in a life where dancing is considered to be the works of the demonkind, where a smile a harbinger of mischief.
At least it's only exile and certain death that comes with that. Witches and others used to be burned at the stake. Weeks worth of precious wood up in flames in the span of moments for the needs of supposed justice. However, since recently, god has become more merciful, or at least his holy agents in the worldly world claimed.
As she felt the heat of shame and humiliation as her eyes stole glancing looks at the crowd around her. Family, neighbors, people who she knew and knew her all her life. So quick to turn on her, the words of faith triumph over the senses of the life lived.
Then there's the inquisitor, a young-ish rail thin man whose face mirrored his soul, of which currently a vindictive crooked grin plastered over it. Next to him is the village priest, who's fat and slimy as always, clearly a sign of being favored by god. He is currently screeching about her harlotry and depravity, apparently avoiding his grubby hands and rancid dick is not what god wanted, not that anyone's saying that out loud. Same old same old, all the previous accused witches were guilty of the same crimes.
That had made her shutter, and for once not just from the biting winds. She was just like them in the crowd even recently, and she's about to become like all the accused witches before her. Were they as innocent as she is? Or is she actually guilty as they were?
Perhaps that's what she deserved. She looked down on the ground, not out of shame for her forced nakedness, nor the scorn heaped upon her. Rather, she's ashamed of what she had done when she was on the other end. Or what she had believed about the community, the village, the world.
Suddenly she felt a pull, as the soldier began to move, to the small path leading out of the village, which beyond the currently fallow fields lies the endless forests. She almost stumbled, but found her footing, and slowly walked, a handful of steps behind the soldier, the rope none too gentle whenever she slowed down.
Behind her, as the noise of the crowd faded away into the distance, she could hear the slow clopping of a horse. She didn't need to turn around to know that it's the inquisitor on his steed, another triumph of his zealous work against the corruption of the world.
......
Hours upon hours they trotted, the time melted into each other in the endless stony gray skies. The heat of humiliation had long passed, stripped away by the biting winds as if in a final mockery, but even the cold had passed, replaced by a numbness across her skin and the stiffness of her limbs. She knew that she did not have much longer left in the world.
Then she noticed that the ground around them was steadily getting brighter even though the day was slowly coming to a close. As she mustered the last of her strength to lift her head she saw... what to describe, that mountain of iron and crystal, as far as the eyes could see, as if carved out of the ground and lifted itself up by forces incomprehensible to the mind?
So enthralled was the otherworldly sight that she didn't even notice at first the small group of figures slowly approaching them, nor the suspicious protrusion in the middle of the road in front of them.
Suddenly, she felt a pair of hands on her as the acolyte roughly lifted her, right up to where the protrusion is. In her delirious state she belatedly realized what he intended to do, but was powerless in more than one sense of the term to resist. Instead she simply stared glazed eyed at the coming suffering while futilely trying and failing to brace herself.
As she was slammed downward and the protrusion made contact with her pussy she felt something completely unexpected. Far from being a construct of solid rock as she had assumed, it was fleshy... and surprisingly soft, as it reshaped itself to the contours of her body, almost as if it's an imprint of sorts. A flash of heat, followed by a strangely comforting warmth, soon spread across her body from her womb, along with waves of sinful pleasure.
It was then when Olivia saw the group of hooded figures slowly strolling their way towards them, their faces half hidden by the hoods and the bodies hidden by the cloaks, which were all of a reddish brown color. There were no adornments on their clothes, nor were those of a high quality. It was weird to be noticing those details, as she's so close to her time in this world.
Or is it? Her vision, and other senses, were getting more dull by the moment, yet she did not feel fear, despair, or any of the other feelings she had expected to experience on the verge of death. Something, within or from beyond, is assuring her that everything will be alright.
Somehow.
Without a word one of the hooded figures casually tossed a small but heavy cloth bag at the inquisitor, who caught the heavy object with the experience of someone who had done that a few times already. He shouted some choice words, which the hooded figures reacted with shrugs of indifference, before turning around and leaving.
The last thing she could recall before everything finally faded to darkness was four of the hooded figures lifting her from the protrusion and carrying her, to where or what she knew not...
......
The return from the darkness was a lot more comfortable. If anything it was too comfortable, for the surface Olivia's lying on is softer than anything she had ever experienced in her life. She could also smell a cleanness that she didn't know was possible, there were no smells of animals, of filth, or really anything. There were also no noises to be heard, besides maybe some faint hummings of unnatural tones, somewhere off in the distance.
She could feel the soft glows of lights, but not of any warmth. Yet the temperature of the- place is comfortable. Yet for all her other senses were telling her, she dared not open her eyes, as if that last sense would shatter the illusion, and bring upon the nightmare. The one that she deserved.
"You can open your eyes. Nothing will harm you here." A soft feminine voice close by her spoke, with the mundaneness of someone who has dealt with such situations plenty of times before.
And so Olivia slowly opened her eyes, finding a plain room, but one of which the walls are composed of some mysterious stonelike material, or something. As Olivia tilted her head a bit, she saw her: a really beautiful woman, with skin completely free of blemishes, with a start she realized that the woman's completely naked... as was she herself.
"It's quite alright." The woman said gently as she saw Olivia quickly tried to cover herself before realizing how futile that was. "You are in a safe place now. Still in this world of course." the words came out with a tone of assurance that everything is indeed, alright. Somehow.