~Three Loves~
She had two loves.
Dancing took her at an age so young she cannot remember. Her passion. Her soul's expression.
In womanhood, her second love emerged with the discovery of a majestic red dress discarded on a roadside. The ethereal fabric, the vibrant color, it screamed with an expressive voice she is not allowed to have.
Her society is oppressive. Her loves are forbidden. Her lovers are secret.
In a secluded grove, far from judgmental eyes, she has a sanctuary. With music in her heart, she dances with passion. A crimson whirlwind floating through the forest.
A prominent man from the city stumbles upon the uninhibited artist in her secret grove. This is a man who takes what he wants, when he wants. Entranced. Aroused. He wants this mysterious miscreant. Now.
Startled. She sees him. She knows of this man. Wealthy. Powerful. Barreling toward her with entitled authority. He grabs her wrists and shouts. His breath is rancid.
She is all things forbidden in their town, and He is the law. Fueled by entitlement and authoritarianism, he wrestles her to the ground.
She's evasive. Agile. She dances around him like a cat toying with a cow. “Witch! Devil! Heretic!” His words begin to make sense. The lummox lunges. She kicks him in the face so hard he goes limp.
Run.
She sprints like the wind itself. Leaping, ducking, bounding. She is the epitome of speed and grace. Her mind races. Any of the scenarios she'll soon face are all horrific. She's doomed. The bold display of her vibrant second love seems louder and more brilliant than ever as she enters town. A chorus of judgment swells as she blazes through the streets.
She knows what happens to “a witch”. She will not survive this.
A strange hermit resides in Old Town. He shares smiles with the misfits of the city. Those with secrets and passions. On this day, he witnesses our dancer's panic. In the split second he sees that flaming dress burning down the city streets, he knows what she knows of her doom.
She catches his eyes. Empathy. Safety. Friend. He waves her to an alleyway. The two slip into the safety of old shadows.
As it happens, the old man knows fantastical secrets. Dark and forbidden things. He's mastered esoteric incantations and befriended ferocious entities from beyond reality.
He offers her a singular option to retain her life. An invitation to join his sect and befriend his otherworldly associates. She graciously accepts.
Rituals are performed. Oaths are sworn. Sacrament. Decades of knowledge are shared with the women through the strangest night of her life.
Dawn. The puritanical leaders and townsfolk have gathered in the city's court. The old man arranges for the woman's surrender. Word has spread. A mob grows. The heretic woman will stand trial at midday.
Cloaked in a drab robe, head hung low, the woman shuffles into court.
The lecher unleashes a tirade of accusations, all true. Suddenly, the feeble old hermit interrupts the trial with a booming voice. Shocking and unexpected. The entire court falls silent.
The old man chants strange words with a commanding voice, weaving an unknown incantation. The woman stands tall and joins in the chant. She drops the drab cloak and releases her lovers.
In the heart of the city, she demands every judgmental eye witness her. With music in her heart, she dances with passion. A crimson whirlwind.
A mist fills the room, pouring from the shadows in all directions. The ground shakes. The fundamentalists writhe and contort. Terrified. Frozen. They shriek in pain.
The woman dances like never before. The chorus of pain is music to her ears. Euphoria. Elegance. She floats through the crowd and she demands satisfaction.
Empowered by esoteric witchcrafts, she drains the souls from everyone who looked upon her with scorn. She dances passion and annihilates with vicious magick.
Skin tears. Bones crack. Eyes go dark. Souls collapse.
The woman had two loves.
Dancing, her soul's expression. And Self love. Embracing beauty. Embracing womanhood. Secretly indulging in pretty things.
The woman has three loves.
Vengeance. The woman third love a demonic WMD that she wields with pride. She is karmic retribution, manifest. A hungry supernatural wrath that destroys those who wish harm upon the misfits. The artists. The freethinkers.
She dances. She loves. She judges all who judge, and executes with extreme prejudice.
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