The stones didn't make me sink. It's the second time they threw me in the water. They'll try a rope around my neck. If that fails, fire is next.

My neck can snap. My flesh can blacken, peel from the flames. None of it will kill me.

After all, I'm the very thing that they hunt. They just haven't encountered a real one yet. For every person they've drowned, hung, pressed, and burned, all they've succeeded in is spreading the pathogen of hysteria.

I'll give them hysteria.

They'll know what a witch really is when I kill them all tonight.