<div style="text-align: center;">Arianne's boots clopped on the cobblestone pavement,with the sound similar to that of a horse trotting.<br/>Red tears encompassed the waterline of her eyes as she writhed in pain with each step.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">What are they doing to him?  Why in the world do they think that he is a witch?</span> <br/><br/>Or perhaps, did the townsfolk always know there was a vampire running amok taking and sparing lives late at night when people were tucked in their beds?<br/><br/>Arianne's long blonde hair was tousled and danced with the wind, as rain fell harder down upon Salem.<br/><br/>Rounding the corner of a house, she knew where her feet were taking her...<br/>Was the spot she was "turned" a comfort zone to her?<br/><br/>All she knew is that she saw Melchonar turn from poised and dignified to a writhing, sad creature before her eyes against that post and within those flames.  <br/><br/>The sinews, the charred bones--- all melting and cracking together... were destroying every last bit of sanity Arianne had left.<br/>She couldn't even have reached out and called his name in the town mob, for they would turn on her.<br/><br/>Such anguish is loss, especially when it happens in front of one's eyes.<br/><br/>There was a picture painted in Arianne's mind, and it wasn't a pretty one.  Demons, devils, fallen angels, and splashes of dark paint-- looks of anguish on the innocents' faces... So many have been burned at the stake.  This would make three this week-- and it would change Arianne's life forever.<br/><br/>A bearskin pelt that Melchonar gave her in her early days of being his student was pulled tightly around her shoulders.  Arianne let her knees give way at the exact spot where Melchonar nearly ripped out her throat and turned her.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Melchonar... Melchonar... What do I do?  Why did you leave me here?!  I don't know how to go on!</span><br/><br/>Melodramatics... Arianne was always good for working herself up to extremes, but this was the first time she had really experienced the "loss" of a loved one.  <br/><br/>Rainwater poured from the roofs into the alleyway now, soaking Arianne to the bone.  What was this feeling she had?  Loneliness?<br/><br/>She touched her gently manicured hands with crimson nail polish to her throat.  She ran over the grooves in the scar... So prominent, even after all of these years. <br/><br/>I'll just rest my eyes here until that stench of burning flesh dies down while those heathen townsfolk celebrate their gruesome murder like it was a celebration of the gods.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Yes, i'll just stay here.  I wouldn't know where else to go to find him later.</span><br/><br/>Arianne was simply going delusional from the shock, abandonment and fear.</div>