Chapter 1: A Deal with the Devil - Part 2

She saw him creeping closer to the home, and pushing the door open to enter. He saw everything happening, and he ducked back out of the house, vomiting in the flowerbeds that lay beside their front steps. He stumbled a few feet away and he grabbed a half-finished bottle of whisky that his superior had been drinking a few minutes before. He drank deep, trying to drown out the images that he would never forget, and when he was called upon to take his dogs into the woods, he followed his orders grimly, knowing just what these demons were capable of. She saw his baby girl, staring up at him with sapphire eyes, and his wife placing a gentle hand on his, their smiles genuine and kind.

Joanna felt her consciousness returning, and suddenly she snapped back into her own head, reeling back from the man and watching as he did the same. His eyes were wide and his face slackened with fear. “What are you?” he asked, his lips trembling.

It took Joanna a moment to collect herself, her heart wrenching beneath the loss of her family and the envy she felt for his. But as she looked back to the kneeling redcoat her face seemed to melt into a mask of determination. “I am the hand of justice.”

“Please, I didn’t do it. You know that I didn’t. I wanted to save them.”

“But you did not. You let them die. You saw what your men did to my mother and father, and you let them die!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I am a coward, and I deserve your wrath, but I did not know what else I could do.”

“Redemption, then,” Joanna spoke, a smirk breaking her features.

“Redemption?”

“Yes. You’re going to help me get to those men. You’re going to help me kill them.”

“But, that would be treason, milady. I can’t possibly—”

Her left hand was around his throat, and with one simple movement she was standing up. The readcoat’s feet dangled above the ground as she held him high over her head, her eyes burrowing into his. Her left wrist seemed to pulse with a dark, smoky energy and it slithered its way upward toward the man’s face. It inched closer, the black tendrils taking the form of snakes, their mouths opening and closing, their tongues flicking nearer and nearer.

“Alright! I’ll do it! I swear, I’ll do it!”

She dropped the man into the grass and he clawed at his throat, gasping for breath desperately as he coughed and spluttered. When he finally recovered, Joanna had laced her dress back up, and she was waiting for him to stand. When the redcoat rose, Joanna’s hands were outstretched, palms up and her wrists placed together in front of her. The look of confusion upon his face was rewarded with a roll of her eyes as she picked up a length of rope that the man’s friend had been carrying and placed it into his hands, holding her wrists together once more.

“I will be your prisoner, and you will take me to your captain to claim your promotion. When we arrive, you will leave and begin spreading word to your comrades that the captain wishes for everyone to gather together in the town hall.”

“That’s suicide. If I gather every man, there will be two score of them in there with you. No matter what witchcraft you control, you can’t possibly—”

The doors that led into the town hall were thick—at least half a foot of solid oak—and as they swung open they clattered against the walls with a loud, resounding boom. The room seemed to shudder from the noise, and the few guards that stood within the large hall immediately whipped around to see the frail soldier and the woman he pulled behind him. She kicked and screamed, and clawed to get away, but the man pulled her until they had reached the other side of the room and he hurled her at the feet of the captain.

“I believe this is the girl you were looking for, Captain.”

“Ah, yes. Well done Petershmidt.”

“It’s Peterson.”

“Whatever. I’ll see to it that you get your promotion as soon as I find the time to. Now, please, leave us.”

“My pleasure,” the nervous man stated, a knowing smile on his lips as he bowed to the man he wished he could kill with his own two hands. The regret that had been gnawing at his chest was dissipating even as he turned his back and walked out the front doors, knowing that he had signed the captain’s death sentence.

As the doors to the town hall closed behind Peterson, the captain of the redcoat regiment looked down toward Joanna and he heaved a grievous sigh. “You know, I didn’t want it to come down to this, Joanna. I knew your parents for some time, and they were decent people.”

“Don’t you dare speak of my parents, you slimy cur. I saw what you did to my mother. I was kneeling right there when you forced yourself on her you god damn pig.”

“Regrettable business, to be sure. But I was told to make an example of them. To show the other families what happens when you refuse an offer after you are told it is non-negotiable. Your parents were good people, but they were fools.”

Joanna could feel the heat in her chest once more as the memories flashed before her and her chest seemed it was about to explode. The man’s words began to fade out as she could hear nothing but the blood rushing in her ears, and her eyesight began to blur and turn red. Her teeth ground against each other, and her hands pressed so tightly against the bindings that constrained her that her wrists began to bleed. Her hazy eyes slowly gained focus once more, and when they did he was pointing the musket at her.

“I really am sorry,” he finished, and the explosive noise rang through the town hall as the bullet tore through Joanna’s chest.

Her eyes widened when she felt the pain, like someone had lit a fire inside of her breast and it wouldn’t go out. She could feel the blood pouring down the front of her dress like lava, and as she hit the floor, she cursed the demon who had tricked her with lies of power and justice. As her blood spewed forward across the hall floor, the front doors opened once again, and the men began to pour in. The captain stepped over the girl’s corpse as if he could block it from their sight.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” he bellowed.

“Peterson told us you wanted everyone to gather at the town hall for a meeting regarding how we’re going to notify the town of what’s happened.”

The captain’s eyes scoured the room, and his lips quivered in rage as he saw Peterson’s face between the oak doors as they closed shut. “You god damn fools, I never gave any orders for you to abandon your posts! There could still be witnesses out there!”

“No, Captain,” the woman’s voice cooed.

The man’s face went pale, and he spun on his heel to see Joanna standing up from the ground, her eyes were black as night, and her skin was as white as ivory. She lifted her hands, and the rope dangled beneath her wrists, cut in two by the bullet meant to kill her. It looked as though her left hand was burning—masked by an inky veil of smoke—but as the captain watched the substance hovering around her hand seemed to retract, flowing back into her arm and disappearing.

“But, y—you’re d—d—dead.”

“Bingo.”

Joanna’s hand moved so fast that it could barely be seen. Her fingers had been surrounded by the smoke-like substance, and her hand had become black as coal, claws jutting from her fingertips. The hand passed through the captain’s neck like it were passing through water, and the man’s neck seemed to disappear as she slashed through it and his head dropped a few inches onto his shoulders, perfectly placed upon the man’s body as if he never needed a neck in the first place. However, as the body fell backwards, the head bounced across the floor and came to rest at the feet of the other soldiers.

Screams of panic erupted from the group of men as they all took one look at the woman before them and tried to escape the hall. They were, however, met with closed doors. Peterson had used the brief time since his escape to have a pair of horses back their cart laden with grain and ale against the door, and as hard as the men pushed against it, it would not budge. As the screams grew louder and louder, Peterson cupped his hands over his ears and he hugged his knees to his chest, rocking back and forward and uttering prayers under his breath. He prayed for his family and his child. He prayed for himself and the men he had sentenced to death. He prayed so hard that when Joanna’s bloody hands found his shoulders twenty minutes later, he was still clutching his knees and uttering madness.

“The deed is done,” she said, patting his shoulders gently. “The men who defiled the commandments of our lord have been justly punished, and now my parents can be laid to rest. Thanks to you. I owe you much.”

“You owe me nothing, demon. Please, all I want to know is that I will never have to see you again.”

Joanna’s eyes seemed to sting with insult, but she merely nodded her head. “You have my word.”

“Thank you. God, thank you,” he cried, tears spilling from his eyes as he stood frantically and he looked from left to right, as though he had never seen these streets before and after a few moments of confusion he dashed off through the dirt and mud.

‘No respect. You let the man live, and he treats you like some sort of beast, eh?’

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear from you.”

‘Now, now, Jo. Don’t say that. We’ve already had so much fun together. It is what you wanted isn’t it? You did want to kill them, didn’t you?’

“I wanted revenge for my family…there were men in there who didn’t deserve to die. Men who you are responsible for killing, not me.”

‘Oh, how noble of you. Put all the blame on the one who helped you,’ the voice stated, mock hurt dripping from every word. ‘Whatever helps you sleep, I suppose. Just don’t forget, Jo, my dear. Regardless of how many lives you wanted to take. That blood still needs to be paid for.’

“The sooner the better,” she stated, her body sagging with a heavy sigh as she made her way into the fields and prepared for a long night of digging.