Dance of the Pitchforks

Azrael's throat tightened as he gulped down the rising fear, struggling to stand up amidst the weight of his full belly. Gasping for breath, he felt the stares of the people bearing down on him like a suffocating weight.

"Ah, young man, are you okay?" the old man's voice cut through the tense air, filled with concern. "You seem pale."

"I-I'm fine, sir," Azrael managed to choke out, forcing a weak smile. "Just a bit tired. If you'll excuse me..."

With every fiber of his being screaming at him to flee, Azrael turned abruptly and began to walk away. Panic surged through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, but he forced himself to maintain a facade of composure.

Inside, however, his heart raced as he grappled with the urgency to escape the unsettling situation.

"Ah, young man, wait!" the old man called out, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Aren't you the one that the Witch hunter took with him to hunt the Witch in the woods?"

Azrael froze in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. He resisted the urge to turn around, feeling the weight of countless unseen eyes boring into him from all directions, making his skin crawl.

"Young man..." the old man's voice trailed off, the syllables stretching out ominously, sending a shiver down Azrael's spine.

Azrael turned around slowly, his heart hammering in his chest as he faced the old man. The smile on the old man's face sent a chill down Azrael's spine, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing mix of madness and hunger.

"N-no, sir," Azrael stammered, his voice trembling slightly. "You must've mistaken me for someone else."

The old man's smile widened unnervingly.

"Oh? Oh? Oh! But I'm sure that Witch hunter took you with him to the woods."

Azrael remained silent, his throat constricted with fear. He didn't dare to speak, the unsettling gaze of the old man piercing through him like a dagger.

"You are mistaken, sir," Azrael interjected abruptly, his voice trembling slightly as he turned and swiftly walked away, refusing to listen to another word from the old man.

His heart pounded in his chest as he moved, but Azrael didn't stop, even when he sensed the unsettling atmosphere around him.

Everywhere he looked, the villagers wore creepy smiles, their eyes fixed on him with an unsettling intensity.

It wasn't just those at the gathering; even those in the surrounding area seemed to be watching him, their expressions sending shivers down his spine.

Afraid to look back, Azrael quickened his pace, the fear gripping him tighter with each step. He didn't dare to entertain the thought of what might happen if he lingered any longer in this eerie place.

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

The repeated calls of "Young man~" echoed around Azrael, each repetition sending a shiver down his spine. The villagers' voices seemed to blend together into a chilling chorus as they called out to him, their smiles growing increasingly eerie.

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

Azrael quickened his pace, trying to escape the encroaching villagers, but they seemed to multiply, surrounding him from all sides with their unsettling grins. Panic gripped him tightly as his legs threatened to give out beneath him.

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~"

"Young man~" Their voices seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with their unnerving repetition.

Desperate and trembling with fear, Azrael stumbled forward, each step feeling heavier than the last as he struggled to break free from the sinister circle closing in around him.

"F*ck this shit!" Azrael cursed under his breath, his heart pounding with terror as he broke into a sprint. Behind him, a mob of over fifty villagers gave chase, brandishing pitchforks and other makeshift weapons.

"He's the Witch! Capture him! Capture him!" the old man's voice echoed through the chaotic scene, fueling the frenzy of the pursuing mob.

Azrael didn't dare to look back. Adrenaline surged through him as he pushed himself to run faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. With every step, he shoved and kicked aside the villagers who blocked his path, driven by the primal instinct to escape the clutches of the frenzied mob.

"Burn! Burn! Burn!" The chilling chant of the villagers reverberated through the air, sending a shiver down Azrael's spine as he realized the gruesome fate they had in store for him.

"Fuck!" he cursed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as his stamina waned. Exhausted from his journey and the frantic escape, he felt his legs growing heavier with each passing moment. He knew he couldn't run much longer.

Panicked, he looked around, only to find himself cornered with no way out. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach as he realized the direness of his situation.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

The villagers' chants grew louder and more fervent, the words "Burn the Witch! Burn the Witch!" echoing through the air like a death knell, sealing Azrael's fate.

Azrael gritted his teeth in frustration and desperation. He knew he couldn't outrun this relentless mob, numbering over sixty strong. What made it even more horrifying was the sight of children among them, wielding weapons alongside the adults.

Just as panic threatened to consume him completely, a rock came hurtling out of nowhere, striking him squarely on the head. Pain exploded through his skull, causing him to lose his footing and stumble forward, his body crashing painfully onto the unforgiving rocky road below.

Blood gushed from Azrael's forehead as he struggled to rise, his head swimming with pain and dizziness. Before he could regain his footing, another rock struck him, causing him to stagger and stumble further. With each blow, his vision blurred and his strength waned.

The crazed villagers closed in around him, their eyes gleaming with a frenzied fervor as they brandished their weapons. Among them, the old man's eerie smile remained unchanged, sending a chill down Azrael's spine.

"Burn the Witch. Capture him and put him on the pole," the old man's voice rang out above the chaos.

As another rock collided with his skull, darkness engulfed Azrael's senses, his consciousness slipping away as he succumbed to the relentless onslaught.