The Sinner

The Sinner

A Story by Bella-Marie
"

Freya Adamson is being trialled for murder in the Medival Ages. However, no one forsees the events that happen in her trial. *New Version*

"

Freya knelt before the Statue of St. Claire, her breathing haggard and uneven. Tears escaped her tightly closed eyes. She clasped her hands in prayer, and began to mutter under her breath. Reverend Burksmarth looked down at her with eyes of fire, his mouth twisted into a snarl of fury and triumph.

"Well then," he whispered, "Have you finished your... er... plea to the Lord for mercy?"

Saying nothing, Freya stood and looked upon Reverend Burksmarth with a hatred so strong the head of the small Church cleared his throat and coughed akwardly. With another burst of malice, he said loudly to the large oak doors of the church "Come in."

A flurry of clothing, a whisper of shoes against the stone floor, and a dozen men entered, all wearing black cloaks and holding a book. Freya looked at the leather spines, reading the titles. A Look into Witchcraft one stated. Murderers Revealed another said. The one that scared Freya the most was the one that said A Guide to Execution.

"These men," said Reverend Burksmarth after a pause, "Are here to listen to what I have to say about the crime commited not ten days ago. They are also here to listen to your plea, your... evidence on that fateful night. Freya Adamson, your trial has come. Sit in the chair up the front, please... shall I bind you, Miss Adamson?"

"No!" Freya screamed, gasping at the thought of being trussed up like a pig waiting for slaughter.

"Do not fear me," instructed Reverend Burksmarth coldly, "I am here as the victims and witnesses of the attack - I am their spokesman. I am not the enemy."

"Then who will make the desision if I am to be hung?" Freya cried, her eyes seeping yet more tears.

The doors opened, and the tall shadow said "I will."

James Smith strode down the isle, his face unreadable. He looked directly at the silent Jury, then at Reverend Burksmarth. With a last glance at Freya's tear-stained face, he settled himself in a straight-backed wooden chair by the pew.

"Sit in the chair Miss Adamson," James Smith said colourlessly. Freya obeyed, trembling with fear. Once she was seated, he said "Tie her wrists to the arms of the chair, but not you Reverend," he added, "But my good friend Harry Goldsmith. Harry, you have the ropes?" Harry nodded feverishly, and then approached Freya, gently but firmly tying her to the chair. Freya looked at the floor, her exspression painfully blank.

"On a cold Winter's night in January," began James Smith, "A man was found dead in his home. The man was a father of three, a husband and an only son, and his name was Hugo Adamson. His daughter, Freya Adamson, is aquitted of the crime, and, if found guilty, she shall be hanged. If found to be both guilty of murder and witchcraft, as the deed may have been committed under those curcumstances, she shall be tortured to  death... in various ways. Reverend Jack Burksmarth, you may begin."

And so the trial began. Reverend Burksmarth spoke earnestly, re-telling the stories of family, friends and neighbours who had a part in the night. Throughout, the Jury took notes, whispered to eachother and cast looks upon Freya - but she had her face hidden in shadow, a snarl of anguish the only feature to be seen. Then, with a final sigh of sadness, Reverend Burksmarth nodded and said "I am finished here, Mr Smith."

"Freya," said James Smith, and his voice was soft, words carefully chosen, "Freya Adamson, you may speak."

She looked up at the Jury, and said slowly "Friday was when Mother always went out for her knitting lesson, leaving me, Charlotte, Jane and Father. Father was upstairs in the attic, fixing the roof. I went up with a drink for him, it seemed like such hard work." The words were rushing forth now, and so were the tears. "He looked over at me, and took a step forth - he tripped and landed on a sharp axe, I pulled it out of him, but he still died. It was an accident. I came down covered in blood and Jane screamed and fainted and Charlotte went upstairs and saw the body herself. And she thought I had killed him. She did. She did. She did..."

"Freya," James Smith said worriedly, "Freya!"

Freya's head jerked and she breathed in... and stopped.

Leaping from the seat, James Smith rushed to Freya, untying her and lying her on the floor gently. Freya began to breathe again.

James Smith looked up at Reverend Burksmarth, who tried to hide the bow and arrow behind him. The members of the Jury gasped - then three of them sprinted to Reverend Burksmarth and tackled him to the ground.

James Smith stood and went to stand next to the Reverend, who looked pleadingly him. James glanced at Freya, with the arrow still lodged in her side.

"Not guilty," James Smith said loudly.

© 2010 Bella-Marie


Author's Note

Bella-Marie
If there are any spelling mistakes, I'm sorry, and I hope it is not too confusing.
*New Version* I changed all the bits that were a bit pointless and hope it's much better.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Featured Review

Oh man. I was not expecting that! Wow, I really liked it, especially the last part. It's always good to add a twist, and I seem to have problems with those (so I'm jealous, lol.)

However, I think it could be expanded on. You know the three-act structure? Beginning, middle, end? Well, this had a faint shadow of that structure, but the ending was not strong enough, in my opinion. Maybe it would be good to imagine it in that three-act structure.

Beginning: introduce the conflict
Middle: complicate the conflict
End: resolve the conflict

But anyway, enough about that. I really liked this as well as your clear writing style. :D Hope to read more soon!

Ceci

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Good character building, excellent suspense, and a good twist for the ending. I just felt that the story was too rushed and I felt cheated. I think the story can be built more. You leave everyone wondering who the James Smith really is and why the priest hated her so much. Which is not a bad thing if the story will eventually revolve around James. Nicely written.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 10 Years Ago


I like it. its a good short story, it doesn't blabber on even a little bit. I think you should write more stuff like this.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh my GOD! Your such a good writer!I find myself always trying to write storys with that one special twist like this one but I never can commit long enough >.< I admire you!

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh man. I was not expecting that! Wow, I really liked it, especially the last part. It's always good to add a twist, and I seem to have problems with those (so I'm jealous, lol.)

However, I think it could be expanded on. You know the three-act structure? Beginning, middle, end? Well, this had a faint shadow of that structure, but the ending was not strong enough, in my opinion. Maybe it would be good to imagine it in that three-act structure.

Beginning: introduce the conflict
Middle: complicate the conflict
End: resolve the conflict

But anyway, enough about that. I really liked this as well as your clear writing style. :D Hope to read more soon!

Ceci

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

970 Views
14 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on July 19, 2009
Last Updated on September 4, 2010
Previous Versions

Author

Bella-Marie
Bella-Marie

Hamilton, Waikato, New Zealand



About
See that picture? Yeah, the profile picture of me. Yeah, yeah, that one! Well, that's my cat, I know! She's so cute, eh! I love my cat, she's the bomb. No, you're cat can't me as good as mine... maybe.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Shatter Shatter

A Poem by Matthew Webb