“No, no please- please! You don’t understand- you can’t-“

“SILENCE, WITCH!” The priest barked at the crying witch before him, “YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS HERE- YOU ARE THE SPAWN OF SATAN HIMSELF!”

The trapped witch begged and cried, all whilst her legs wobbled and buckled atop the stacks of hay and logs. Trial by flame... one of the most torturous ways to go.

You stood in the gathering crowd, observing the trial and ultimate execution of the young witch. You hadn’t wanted to come, but you were given no choice... your father had demanded it of you.

“Watch closely,” he growled, his voice low as he tugged you to the front of the crowd. “Watch this wench suffer... for the crimes she had commit.” His brows furrowed before he gazed down upon his daughter, as she squirmed in his grasp. “This- this is what will become of you if you stray down this path. You shall perish alongside these demons...”

“Father- please!” You protested whilst struggling to escape your father’s brutal grip, “I don’t want this- I-I don’t want to watch! I’ll listen, I’ll obey! I’ll- I’ll stop trying to run, just don’t make me stay!”

Your father suddenly lifted his free hand before brutally slapping his daughter across the face. There was no mercy, not even a glint of empathy in his dark gaze as he watched the way a raging welt formed on your porcelain skin.

“Shut your mouth, brat. You’re sounding more and more like that witch by the damn second...” He spat before tugging you up and forcing you to watch, “I’ll kill you myself if you become a wench like that there beast...”

The town fell quiet as the midnight bell tolled. It was time to begin and finish this trial... or so you all thought.

“AGATHA HARKNESS...” The priest boomed, his voice ringing out over the silent crowd as he opened his bible and lit his flaming torch, “YOU HAVE BEEN SENTENCED TO TRIAL BY FIRE DUE TO 3 SEPARATE ACCOUNTS OF WITCHCRAFT.” His statement was loud and clear... causing the townsfolk to yell and curse at the young witch upon the stake. “THESE ARE THE LAST MOMENTS YOUR WICKEDNESS WILL STRIKE TERROR INTO THE PEOPLE OF THIS VILLAGE!”

“N-NO! NO PLEASE! PLEASE SIR- I-I SWEAR I’M INNOCENT!” Agatha cried once more, all whilst tears of terror streamed down her face. This witch was no older than 18... nothing but a young woman labeled as the damned. “PLEAAAAASE!”

The girl's cries were drowned out by the repetition of the priest’s chosen bible verse as he lit the flames that would surely cremate the witch. The fire crackled and roared with a power that had never be seen before... all seemed to be going well until a large explosion of purple wisps and flame licked at the night sky, setting alight to the surrounding homes.

The townsfolk began to scramble and scream as the witch, Agatha Harkness arose from the flames, her hair flowing like ink around her whilst her hands glowed with vibrant purple hue. She slaughtered and slayed, protecting herself from those who had dared harmed her.

In the fray, your father had released your arm, abandoning you among the crowd of fleeing men as the village crumbled to the ground leaving nothing but smoke, embers, corpses...

and you behind.