CW: Violence, blood
"What do you think you're doing?"
Lia did not know if it was her or the people around her who spoke the words. Or perhaps they both said the same thing at the same time. For Lia wanted to know what caused this… this pandemonium and for the people to know what made a young woman sympathize with their supposedly common enemy.
She ran faster, pushed anyone in the way, and stood in front of the mob with their old house behind her.
"What do you think you're doing?" This time it came from Lia.
"What do you think we are doing!? We are killing the witch to save our families!"
"Who told you to do that?" Lia shouted. She was beyond caring and at the edge of crying, if she was not already. This was unfair.
A middle-aged man with rounded features strode forward in the hopes of dissipating the argument. In this dimly lit place, Lia only recognized that this was the mayor because of the expensive garments he wore.
"Young lady, stand back. This is justice for our townspeople who suffered the wrath of the witch. We do this under the name of our King through his Vice-General," the mayor said.
"The… Vice-General?" the title echoed inside her head. It only meant one thing -- the protagonist. He would not stoop low to this, right?
The mayor smiled, but his patience was obviously being stretched thin. "If he didn't, why do you think there's no guard holding us back when we left the town? He ordered strict patrolling, they ought to punish anyone who disobeys."
When Lia did not answer, the mayor jerked his head, signaling for the people to move forward and lit the house. The rest watched in vigilance, some even dared to shout with glee. Lia reeled in anger.
"Stop it! Enough! Don't burn our house!"
In the middle, she heard someone murmuring. "Our house?"
The mayor was the first to react. "She's the witch! Capture her! Justice in the name of our King!"
Stones were hurled as fast as the shouts of insults. Lia took a step back until she was near the door or what had remained of their door as the crowd closed in on her. The tips of her hair singed. Yet the people continued to inch forward, forming a semi-circle around her, not giving her a chance to run.
What did she even think of achieving returning here? She could only hope that Tamara and the rest were able to escape. There was, at least, something good that happened.
A stone hit her in the center of her forehead that knocked her backward. She glared from under her arms, hot, thick liquid gushing from her forehead. A small part of her thought of how movies worked. When the lead was in danger, a savior, preferably a prince would come running, saving the day. But in this remote town, in the middle of the forest, when everyone was a foe, neither a savior nor a prince, would come to save her.
She smiled bitterly. It only worked if you were the lead. But she was not the female lead of this story. She was the cannon fodder, and her fate was to die just like in the original novel. Maybe changing and fighting her fate was the wrong move, after all.
'Ah. So this is where and how I die.'