Witch hunt Stories

Salem, January 1693 ~~oOo~~ The coarse hemp fibers of the ropes visibly tore at the delicate flesh of her wrists, but Sarah seemed indifferent. Instead, she plodded ahead in calm silence. Even when she stumbled and her fragile body bumped and thumped atop the heap of ugly rocks, no sound left her lips. When she found her feet once more, she trudged onward, head up, staring straight ahead with intelligent eyes as a develop...

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...