Ava opened her eyes as she felt the cold droplet of water against her nape. Her hair and blouse stuck to the skin due to being soaked from the water. She could only assume that she had been sitting in his position for a while. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs as she straightened her head up until it hit the damp wall behind her.
She couldn't see anything in front of her. It was only an empty nothing, except for eyes she could feel burn at her from different directions. Now and then, she would hear the soft whimpers around her, which came from what she could only assume was from within other cells.
For each time she tried to move, the restraints around her wrists prevented her from getting far. From what she could tell from her small efforts of tugging at it, the rope around her wrists connected somewhere with the wall. If she moved too far, she eventually touched something warm and damp, which had scared her at first.
Now, she used what she assumed to be a rat to warm her toes up against. At first, the thought had crossed her mind that she was now a cellmate with a dead body. After growing up around corpses, she was observant when it came to the temperatures of corpses. If it had been someone with a pulse which she was now trying to snuggle up to, someone would have said something. Except if they were as cold as her.
After working as an unofficial doctor ever since her father passed, Ava was well aware of what her body would come to if she stayed too cold for too long. Probably throughout the next twenty-four hours, she could get a fever - or in the worst case hypothermia.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought back at what she had been working as before this moment. None of the men in the small village accepted her work, saying that it was no place for a woman to work as a doctor because she wasn't smart enough. Their mortality rate had been far higher than hers, and most of their patients had come to her instead.
It wasn´t witchcraft she had to take the blame for; it was jealousy.
A small laugh escaped her as she realized the cold and hard truth, being a good doctor would get her killed - just because men can´t handle getting walked over.
Right as she had laughed, a whimper became louder. Ava turned her head in the direction of the cry, which seemed to be right across the hall from her, and immediately felt her stomach tighten.
"Please," the voice cried. "I'm not a witch."
From what she could tell, judging only by the cry; the girl wasn't much older than herself. Yet the energy which came off from the room; was desperate, terrifying, and intense. The intensity was probably a result of the girl's own emotions.
Ava leaned her head against the damp bricks behind her once again. She couldn't help but listen to the endless whimpers of not being a witch. Ava didn't want to plead for her life; because their fear would overcome any voice of reason. Fear has killed more people than a knife has ever.
She could still vividly remember the first four girls who got hung over the bridge with a rope tied around their neck. They had all been pleading, right up until the moment their necks broke. Yet, what she remembered the most, was the fear in the bystanders´ eyes. The only one of the bystanders that hadn't shown any emotions was the priest. His cold gaze had looked directly at a fourteen-year-old girl and demanded that her death was the next, without batting an eye.
The first four deaths had started a mass hysteria; and a literal witch hunt. If someone managed to survive a fever, they were immediately outed as a witch. Walking down the road in the wrong way? Witch. Traveling? Witch. Speaking their mind? Witch, because God forbid that a woman spoke her mind.
Now, the only women here speaking their minds were the whimpering female across the hall from her and the pleading voices further down the hallway. She didn't understand what they were hoping to achieve by whimpering like little kids, as if there would be anyone believing them.
Right now, they were all guilty of a crime until proven otherwise.
As Ava turned her head in the direction of the wailing woman, her stomach tightened once again. Her eyebrows twitched as she realized why her stomach had acted up. She attempted to straighten up as if the change in position would make her get any closer to the woman.
She couldn't understand why the woman hadn't spoken up yet about her condition. Even if she had gotten pregnant outside of marriage, they would still let her go. She had seen it with another girl a month ago. Ava opened her mouth to suggest speaking up to the girl but quickly shut it as a scream appeared down the hall.
"I call out to the devil!"
The chanting came out of nowhere, and Ava had no idea why it suddenly started further down the hall. Judging by the sounds of the throaty and sharp cries, she could only assume it was an older woman.
The sharp cries of rusty hinges being moved further down the hall drowned out the chanting for a brief second. Warm light appeared, and Ava realized how much she missed the warm hue. Four men, all wearing black and masks, quickly walked past her cell, dragging the light along with them.
Another sharp cry coming from rusty hinges emerged, before the sounds of the devilish chanting came closer. Taken by curiosity, Ava turned her head to where they would drag away the chanting culprit to see who it was.
"Devils child!"
She was right; a bony, wrinkled woman with messy grey hair was the person behind the chanting. Ava could feel her heart stop in her chest as the woman locked her vile eyes onto her, barely not missing seeing the object getting tossed into her cell from the dim light from the vanishing fire.