The Short Drop of Justice

The noose tightened around her neck, and Emily's feet left the ground as Grimstone gave her a short, swift drop. The jolt of her body jerking downward was excruciating, and her vision began to blur. Her tongue protruded from her mouth, and her eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of their sockets. She tried to struggle, but it was too late. The rope constricted her airway, and her body began to convulse. As she hung there, Emily's mind was flooded with memories of her childhood, her family, and her friends. She thought of her mother's tears, her father's gentle smile, and the sun-kissed fields where she used to play. But these thoughts were quickly replaced by a creeping darkness, as her body succumbed to the slow and agonizing process of strangulation. The villagers watched in a mix of horror and fascination as Emily's body convulsed and twitched. Some of them looked away, unable to bear the sight, while others seemed mesmerized by the spectacle. Thorne stood at the edge of the crowd, his eyes fixed on Emily's struggling form, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. As the minutes ticked by, Emily's movements became more sporadic and erratic. Her body jerked and spasmed, her legs kicking wildly in a futile attempt to free herself. But it was no use. The rope held fast, and her airway remained constricted, slowly squeezing the life out of her. The villagers began to murmur among themselves, some of them speaking in hushed tones about the strange occurrences that had taken place during the trial. They spoke of the unbroken egg, and the devil's possible interference. But as they looked up at Emily's hanging form, they knew that such discussions were now moot. The trial by ordeal had been conducted, and the verdict had been delivered. In the distance, a bird began to sing a sweet and melancholy song, a stark contrast to the gruesome scene unfolding before the villagers. As Emily's vision began to fade, she heard her mother's anguished cry, piercing the air like a knife. It was the last sound she heard before her eyes slipped shut, and her body went limp, suspended in mid-air, a tragic victim of the village's deadly superstition. The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of the bird's song, and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. The villagers stood frozen, unsure of what to do next, as they gazed upon the lifeless body of the young woman who had been accused of witchcraft.