Limbo

Lili's lived by the same rule for the majority of her life - everything happens for a reason.
But that one trip, that one night, that one moment of pure adrenaline changed everything.

Strange, phenomenal things begin to happen, and it's not just her.

[Blurb is in the works]

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1. ⚛ Chapter One ⚛

 

SALEM 1693

 

“Execute her!” A bellow emerged from the sea of pitchforks, flushed faces and fiery eyes. “HANG THE WITCH! Send it to hell!” Series of eager voices screamed.

“I’m not a witch! Please, have mercy!” She stood on the back of a wagon, men forcefully placing the noose around her jerking neck. “I’m not a witch!” She cried, a stream of tears splattering down onto the wooden floor, disappearing into the cracks.

 

“She’s a liar!” More voices shouted. “To hell with her!” They chanted, fisting the icy merciless air.

“I promise you, I am not a witch. You’ve got this all wrong.” Flailing her arms in all directions, she struggled to set free from the noose and the strong arms of the ignorant men. The faint moon watched as the trees danced to the howling of the wind, silencing the screams of the lady. “This isn’t how I die.” She muttered, staring at the men, then to the crowd. Clenched pearly white teeth flashed in the approaching darkness of dusk, stock-still, their eyes covered by a big brown hat.

 

The crowd hushed just as the horses of the wagon were about to be whipped to trot forward, leaving the lady hanging due to accusation.

 

Its now or never...

 

On the spur of the moment, branches slashed through the frozen air, entangling the men’s arms within the wild limbs of the trees. Stems sprouted from the earth, tightening and twisting around legs, whilst lips quivered.  

“It’s the witch!” The noose flew off from around the woman’s neck, lashing back around the spindly branches of the dark trees. She leapt off, splintering her bare feet.

 

And she ran.

Ran for her life, every footstep crushing the brittle decaying leaves into the damp ground. “This isn’t how I die.” Her tears trailed behind her, feet scarred and bruised; bloody patterns marking beneath her. Heart thumping, thumping, thumping every step she took towards the abyss of the forest. “I am not a-” Silence. Nothing but silence after the bullet smacked through the air. Through her. Stumbling down, down, down towards the ground. Her bruised hand grasped at the air, all colour from her skin washed out like her ambitious life switching into a sad black and white movie. A pool of inky liquid surrounded her. Piercing stone eyes wide open.

 

“TO HELL WITH THE WITCH!”

 

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘

 

Midnight struck upon Salem, drifting people off into guilt free sleep. The only signs of life in the town were the crackling of fireplaces and lamps, streaming hazy amber out of the little windows and the ringing of crickets. Peacefulness drove through each road and path and down each chimney – everything was just a hush like a mother soothing her baby to sleep. Arms of trees tapped on the wooden roofs like fingernails on a table, waiting.  

 

“This is the fourth hanging…we need to leave before we change too much.” A shadowed figure whispered, pacing between trees, impatiently.

“Alden, we’re making history. History that can excel the future into something wonderful!” Aggravation rose in the voice of another, as he waved around his big brown hat.

“Carmela wouldn’t have wanted this.” The shadowed figure stopped. His brows furrowed as his heartbeat sped.

“This isn’t just about Carmela anymore! Don’t be so selfish!”

“Selfish? You want to talk about selfish?” The figure, Alden, stepped forward into the glow of the fire lit torches. “You know what, I’ve had enough. I’ll show you selfish.”

As his last word slipped through his lips, he fled through the village, followed by the other, charging through the icy wind, their coats soaring behind like capes. But they were no heroes.

Stumbling into a cobble building, the shadowed figure threw off his dark coat, triggering the scurry of rats. Before him was a metallic structure, glinting in the light of the fire that streamed through the glass windows. Flouncing through the crooked door, the other exerted all his energy in grappling Alden away from the structure that began to throb.

“You’re not thinking rationally, Alden! You know we can’t do this. Not yet.”
Escaping from his grasp, Alden examined his partner’s eyes. “For once, I agree. We can’t do this.” Blood boiling, fury overtook him, “We can’t do any of this. There’s a reason why this hasn’t been done before! I’m not thinking rationally, are you kidding me?!” And with that, Alden clambered into the metallic object. The other man yelled, surging towards the structure, managing to cling onto the cuffs of Alden’s trousers but only to be drawn with him into the metallic mystery.

 

It was too late.

 

The structure vibrated and buzzed, sparking with electricity. A magenta light beamed from all angles of the structure, impaling through the windows and streaking through holes in the roof. It continued to shake and tremble, uncontrollably and after a few seconds, the structure began to oscillate back and forth.

As it continued to oscillate, the metal became surrounded in a purple fuzzy aura, increasing in brightness. The entire building flooded in the lavender light, the vibrations of the structure shattering the glass windows like a sledgehammer. It screeched deafeningly like a cat scratch on a chalkboard.

Bursting into orange flames, the structure spat out balls of fire. Cackles echoed. The metal raged red. Strong waves of heat overtook what was the cold room. Screams penetrated through the stone walls into the awakening village. But before the villagers could scamper over to see what other supposed witchcraft they could fear, the metallic structure obliterated into nothing. Nothing.

Nothing was left but the dark coat igniting and the shards of broken glass scattering the floor.

 

There was no sign of the two men. Like they had never existed.

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