A Tale of Witches

She stood unwavering as the flames licked at her bare toes. The straw hissed and crackled as the fire swallowed the pyre whole, wrapping around her like a thick blanket. She stared at the crowd, chanting and hollering.

“WITCH!”

They screamed it as if it were a bad thing. Something negative. Something to be ashamed of. She knew her power. She knew what she was capable of. If they were smarter, they would have known, too. But alas, she let the flames consume her, unbothered by the heat.

Their hollering got louder as the flames grew bigger. They were certain she was dying a slow, painful death under the heat. Little did they know, she’d summoned the others. They rose in the smoke and danced around her, protecting her with the very thing meant to destroy her.

They’d all been through this before. Just like her, they hadn’t burned. Silly fuckers didn’t understand that witches don’t burn.

***

October was the only time that the school permitted talk of witches. The elementary school covered the Salem witch trials once a year, that last week of Halloween. Even then, they left out plenty of details.

Other than that one week, the town stayed silent about witches being real. They preferred to bury their dirty little secrets to fester just under the surface. Paint the town pretty. Pretend like history didn’t exist. It was easy to cover a little blight on the town, seeing as it happened so long ago. Who would even remember.

The elders in the town were nervous. The Hunter moon was set to fall on Halloween. Bad things happened during full moons, but a full moon on Halloween was a hell mouth the likes of which none of them had seen. They whispered in the streets to one another, shaking their heads and wringing their hands. If they had it their way, Halloween would be banned.

None of them were there when it happened, back in 1692, but their ancestors were. They stood in the streets, pitchforks in hand and lit up the night sky while the bodies of women burned to a crisp.

Their families shared stories and told tales of the wicked women that tried to take over the town. The men in the families were angry and their stories were mean and full of vitriol. The women in the families were scared and they told the stories with fear and trembling voices.

Only Edna, the oldest of the elders, would tell the true story of what happened back in 1692 in the sleepy little town of Ravenfield.

She was living in an old folks home and had no family to speak of. She didn’t get many visitors and the other elders in town kept a close eye on who came and went. They didn’t like her stories. They didn’t appreciate her candor. They wanted to keep her quiet.

Edna was fiery in her old age. She wasn’t one to be told to keep her mouth shut. And she would talk to anyone who would listen.

That week of Halloween, a stranger showed up. Ravenfield was small, and everyone knew everyone, so the minute the dark haired beauty rolled into town, everybody knew.

She strode down the middle of Main Street. The sun bounced off her shiny, jet black hair. Her nails were long and painted a deep red. She wore tight black jeans with holes in the knees, black combat boots and a Ramones tank top that showed off her milky white midriff.

The women in town pulled their children inside and watched her from behind the blinds. The men tried their best not to stare, but the streets were lined with their jaws agape and their eyes bulging from their skulls.

She didn’t notice any of them. She was on a mission and headed straight for the old folks home. Edna was expecting her. So were the elders.

They knew about her visit well before she arrived. Word had come from far away. A warning. They all sat in their tiny rooms, fretting and shaking. They couldn’t stop this meeting even if they tried. Her presence was nothing short of a bad omen.

Edna swung the front door open and stared at the woman walking towards her. She’d been told she was beautiful, but this was heart stopping. A sly smile crossed Edna’s mouth.

“Finally,” she exclaimed. “You made it!” Edna stuck her hand out. “So good to finally meet you, Ari. I’ve been waiting a very long time.”

Ari slid her long fingers into Edna’s wrinkled and gnarled hand. She wrapped her other hand on top and squeezed. “The pleasure is all mine, Edna.”

Her voice was like honey. The old men in the room melted into their recliners.

“This way,” Edna said, and motioned to the back door. “We’ll sit out back, near the trees. I made us some tea.”

Ari listened intently as Edna told her how the town had followed suit after the Salem witch trials had begun, but they went in even harder. Not only did they prosecute those that were thought to be a witch — they prosecuted all of the women in town. Even the children. The men were ruthless. They were careless. They were evil.

There weren’t many, she explained, but there were a handful that were the very thing they feared. Most of the women put on pyres to burn, screamed and writhed in pain as the skin fell from their bodies like sheets of crumpled paper. Women put to death for simply existing.

Edna told Ari that if you were real quiet on a full moon night, you could still hear their screams echoing in the darkness.

The others however, the ones who didn’t succumb, burned the town to the ground.

After the flames had died down and bodies were left to crumble in the wind, the few that remained unscathed removed the ropes tied to their wrists and walked across the ashen roads to the pub where the men sat drinking and cheering one another. They really did it!

The door opened and there they stood; three glorious naked women, seething with rage.  You could still see the flames dancing in their eyes. None said a word. With a stroke of one finger down the door frame, the pub lit up like tinder, the wood quickly smothered in flames.

The men, purely dumbfounded, couldn’t find the strength to move. They just stared as beams came crashing down around them, trapping them in their own fiery tomb. Their screams filled the night air. Each of the women smiled as the screams grew louder.

The women went from house to house, stroking each door frame, setting the town ablaze. They ended at the edge of town, just outside the dark forest that covered acres of land leading to the next town. As Ravenfield melted to nothing, they walked into the woods. No one had seen them since.

Ari’s eyes danced as Edna spoke. She could see it all in front of her, as if it were happening here and now. Edna smiled and took Ari’s hand in hers.

“No one had seen them, until now.” She winked at Ari, who had an eyebrow cocked and an all-knowing smile creasing her face.

Ari stood, and helped Edna to her feet. She laced her fingers in Edna’s and they walked towards the forest that backed up to the edge of the old folks home.

“Edna,” a voice cried out from the side yard. “Edna!”

Edna didn’t turn around. She held Ari’s hand and continued her journey towards the trees.

“Edna! Wait! You don’t know wha—“

The voice cut off as Edna stepped her foot on the forest floor. The sun beamed brightly through the tops of the trees as they swayed, welcoming her home. Her steps grew quicker as she and Ari walked deeper and deeper into the dense forest.

Back in town, bells clanged loudly from the church. The elders were in a fit. They could barely contain their nerves. They each left their tiny rooms and met in the church, waiting for the others. The sound carried to the next three towns. Their elders would come, too. They all needed to be together now. It was the only way to stop what was coming, though they weren’t sure what that was.

Edna’s hand, still woven in Ari’s, started to soften. Her knuckles, once gnarled and knobby were now supple and easy to move. Her skin, once covered in age spots and wrinkles smoothed and cleared. She glanced up at Ari, beaming from ear to ear. Ari smiled back and squeezed her hand.

With that, Edna’s long, white hair whipped in the breeze, turning black and thick. Her eyes, shone bright and full of life. Her spine straightened and her figure pulled in tight. They stopped, and Ari pulled her in close.

“Grandma,” Ari whispered. “I’m so glad I get to finally meet you!”

Edna gripped her granddaughter tightly. “Is your mother here?”

A stick snapped, and Edna turned to see an ethereal beauty before her. A goddess with milky white skin, buttery gold hair and eyes the color of autumn leaves.

“Selene!” Edna rushed toward her daughter and wrapped her up tightly in her arms. “I thought this day would never come!”

Tears fell from Edna’s eyes as Selene stroked her mother’s hair.

“The Montgomery ladies, back together again.” Selene smiled. “ Do you hear the bells?”

Edna nodded and a wry smile creased her face. “Scared little fuckers!”

She threw her head back and laughed. Selene and Ari joined in. The trees swayed in unison with the sound of their voices. Birds took flight, matching their song to the sound.

The bells chimed, long and loud. They were faint in the forest, but the Montgomery women knew what it meant. It was a call to arms to the elders in other towns. It was a warning. The witches are back.

It had been over 200 years since those bells had rung. Not since Selene.

It was an eerie sound. A deep, low echo that went on for hours. Droves of cars with elders from other towns swarmed the town square. The transplants to Ravenfield watched from their windows, confused as to what was happening.

The elders wouldn’t speak of the town’s history, so none of them knew what all the fuss was about. They preferred it that way. The less people that knew what had happened, the easier it was to keep Ravenfield a sleepy little town, and not some bustling tourist attraction for a new generation of witches.

Cars lined the streets and the doors to the church creaked on their hinges. The doors hadn’t seen this much action in years. Opening once a week did not amount to much compared to the droves of elders filing in, one by one,  filling the pews and clasping their hands. They whispered and shivered next to one another. Whatever were they to do.

Deep in the forest, a fire was burning. The full moon was mere days away, and the sound of the Montgomery’s chanting filled the air. Their voices carried on the wind, calling to all of the others. All of their ancestors. All of their kin.

They all called back, sending word through the wind. Within an hour, the forest was filled with women from all over the world. The Northeast coven was strong. Ravenfield wasn’t the only town with a dark past.

Women of all ages filled the forest, entering from all sides. Those that had passed danced in the flames and the smoke of the fire. Every ancestor from every generation filled the forest that day.

The women stood tall with their bare feet on the Earth, holding hands and singing the song of their ancestors. They all knew it, even if this was the first time singing it. It flowed through their veins like water. The flames licked the tree tops and the branches swayed with the sound. The forest creatures stood still, watching with reverence.

Their song carried into town and drowned out the sound of the clanging bell. Without warning, the bell stopped. The elders shook, and slammed the door shut to the church. They all hit their knees, hands clasped tightly and prayed out loud.

The rest of the town, utterly mesmerized by the sounds echoing around them, all stopped where they stood and stared towards the woods. The trees looked as if they were breathing as they swayed. The glow of the fire turne the air a flickering gold.  

The women’s feet, stepping in unison shook the ground as they walked, howling as they made their way to the edge of town at the forest line. Edna stepped her foot on the soft grassy Earth just beyond the forest, and the church doors blew wide open. The elders trembled and hid behind anything they could find. Selene followed, and the sky opened up and rain poured over the town. As Ari’s foot hit the grass, thunder crashed wildly and lightning lit the sky a bright purple.

They walked into town, hand in hand, smiling at the townsfolk filling the street. As the line of women passed, the townsfolk walked in line behind, unable to not follow. Their feet moved without their approval. No one spoke a word.

The elders knew what the women wanted. They knew who the women wanted. In the corner, tucked under a desk sat a woman with long, white hair and gangly limbs. She was thin and quiet and refused to speak at the gatherings of the elders. Her skin was paper thin and crepey with wrinkles. Age spots covered her hands and her chest. They knew who she was, even if she’d never spoken a word.

Her name was Agnes. She had been the wife of Harold, the man who started the witch-hunt in Ravenfield. She herself had been on the chopping block with the others. She’d worked in the apothecaries creating tinctures to heal. Her husband was suspicious and angry. He took his anger out on her and when he started mentioning the witch trials in Salem, she knew she needed to hide.

She told Harold everything about the others. She told him she’d been helping to get the information she suspected all along; that there were women in town that were, in fact, witches. She knew that if she could point him anywhere but in her direction, she may actually live to see her children grow up.

Harold was a bastard and a mean drunk. She had no idea that he would take it so far as to burn every single woman in town, including their own daughter. She stood in the crowd, lifting fires to the woman tied down screaming in pain. As the women burned, he made the men tie her up, and put their daughter in her hands. She begged him not to, but he refused to listen. Her plan hadn’t worked, and he lit the hay with a snarl.

Lucky for her, their daughter had witches blood in her veins. She didn’t burn, either. As soon as the fires died down and the men headed to the pub, Agnes held her daughter tightly and told her to be very, very quiet. They needed to be very still. She would let her know when to run.

After Edna finished lighting the town to flames and walked into the woods, Agnes grabbed her daughter’s hand and they ran the other direction, as far from Ravenfield as they could. They built a little life, away from the witches she’d thrown under the bus. Her daughter died young in an accident, and Agnes was left alone.

She made her way back to Ravenfield, and found others who had heard stories of the witches from their families. She started gathering people around her, those that all agreed that this was a dark part of the town’s history they should keep quiet at all costs.

Slowly the group grew larger and larger, bringing in others from surrounding towns. And so, the elders were born. Years passed and the elders passed, and a new generation was ushered in to take their place. Everyone except Agnes.

Eventually, she just became the oldest elder and no one seemed to notice that she was as old as she was. She was a legend, and nobody questioned her. That was, until the witches coven swarmed in the forest and crowded the streets, heading straight to the church where they all hid.

Each of them stared at the quiet woman in the corner, wringing their hands and pointing at her ferociously.

“They’re here for you,” they howled.

Agnes sat quietly, ignoring the others. She knew they were coming for her. And she knew that there was nothing she could do about it.

She had made a deal with the devil the day her daughter died. She offered up her own life, her mortality for her daughter’s. She should have known better. The devil, sneaky as he was, twisted her words and stole her powers and left her with immortality, and still, he never gave her daughter back. She was left with no one and no way to escape. She had no power to stop the witches standing at the doorstep.

Edna ascended the stairs, followed by Selene on her right and Ari on her left. They stopped at the open door, not crossing the threshold.

“Agnes,” Edna called out. “Agnes, I know you’re in there.”

Agnes didn’t move. The others pointed and shouted, trembling in unison like a rat king, all wrapped up in one another.

“Agnes,” Edna called.

“Agnes,” Selene whispered.

“Agnes,” Ari screamed.

The entire church shook. The elders crumpled to the floor.

Edna grabbed Selene’s hand, then Ari’s. They closed their eyes and started singing. The sound was enchanting. The elders, still trembling in a ball on the floor stared, unable to move, unable to speak.

The coven, standing on the steps below the Montgomery women, joined in. The sound carried across the entire Northern seaboard. People stopped in their tracks miles away just to listen. The townsfolk lining the street swayed to the sound. The town was breathing.

Agnes stood, and walked to the door. Edna smiled at her, and with a small wink, Selene and Ari ran their fingers down the wooden doorframe and the church was instantly engulfed in flames.

Screams careened through the open door and carried in the air, to the fire in the forest. The ancestors of the coven danced and laughed, holding on to the screams as they flew through the air.

Without warning, Agnes began to burn. Her thin skin sloughed off in piles at her feet. She lurched forward and the doors to the church slammed shut. She banged as hard as she could, howling a bloodcurdling sound as her muscles charred and her eyes bulged in their sockets. Only the coven could hear the screaming. The townsfolk heard nothing. They saw nothing. For them, the church stood tall and strong. No fire. No screams. No torture.

The coven kept them safe. They weren’t there to hurt these folks who knew nothing of the torture that Agnes and the elders ancestors had caused these women. They were only here to rid the town of those that hurt them, and kept them from being true to who they were.

Within an hour, the elders were nothing but ash. The fire burned so hot even their bones turned to dust. Edna, Selene and Ari swept the church and gathered their remains. The church itself remained untouched by the flames. As the coven walked back into the woods, the town returned to normal. The townsfolk went on about their day, never the wiser.

The Montgomery’s threw the ashes of the elders into the still burning fire in the woods. The flames screamed and howled, flashing a bright green as the dust drifted into the sky above. They chanted as the coven walked out of the woods, back to their homes, each of them knowing that the world was now safer for each and every witch to come.