Burned at the Cross

Burned at the Cross ~ Ch. 1

Suffolk County, Massachusetts 1692

        "Kill the witch!"

        "Burn her and her home!"

        "Destroy!"

        "In God's name, we shall be rid of the treacherous witchcraft!"

        People shouted outside my home, raising their crosses higher. The shadows of the fire lit torches danced on the walls could be seen from my bedroom window. I watched stoically as the whole town seemed to gather at the doorstep of the house. Women and children were watching silently from the streets with hatred in their eyes as the men took up anything sharp; knives, swords, sticks, I even caught a glimpse of someone with a fork.

        I watched in silent acceptance as the whole town screamed for me to come out. Quickly, I gathered my suitcase, which was stored under the bed for events such as these. In there contained a book of my mixtures and spells that I haven't memorized yet, an old scrapbook, and my mother's ring. Quickly, I found Loui, my dachshund who was waiting dutifully by the fire place in my room.

        That was when the fire began. It started in two different parts of the house; at the front door and the back door, cutting off the obvious escape routes. I sensed, rather than heard, the stairwell creak as it caught the merciless flames. Loui growled in my arms and I petted him to reassure that everything would be fine.

        Grabbing my last belonging, a black cloak, I went towards the back of the house. Around the banister, I saw the flames eating up the portrait of mother and I. I stared at it, sadly, for a moment and then sprang into action. Opening the door to the small study, I leaped out of the only window, suitcase first and me on top.

        I raced into the woods and set Loui down, letting him trot by my side. Looking back, I saw the house, my house, engulfed by red hot flames. The house that I grew up with Mother was now gone. For one moment, I allowed myself a tear to escape but quickly brushed it away. It wouldn't do any good if I cried.

          It was almost time for me to leave anyway, I thought bitterly.

        I had to obey the contract that Mother refused to full fill.

        If my name isn't Alyssa Bell, then no one else could take up to the task. I grinned evilly at the whole thought of the task set ahead of her. Ready? Hardly

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        {[Alyssa]}

        Walking along the roads of Massachusetts on a hot summer day wasn't fun, especially when you had a black cloak on. Sweat ran down my temple as I lugged my leather suitcase behind me and Loui sagged behind a couple of feet, ready to collapse. But I had to keep moving towards the Price family. I just had to, my body pulling me in their direction.

        The Shifters were probably already impatient since Mother ran away and forgot her oath, her duty, contract; whatever. They just needed someone to protect them and of course they pick the Bell family. The Price and Bell clans have gotten along by walking on a tight rope; one wrong move and then we'd be in war. Well, it wouldn't be much of a war since I, Alyssa Bell, was the last witch of the Bell family.

        The rest of my family had cast their magic aside to mate with the mortals, diminishing their powers. They never even told their spouse their true character, for fear of being rejected or worse, burned. In these time, witches were being burned more and more recently, making it almost impossible to stay in one place forever. But that's what I'd, selfishly wanted; to stay at the place where I grew up in forever.

        But the towns people started whispering how I never went out, how unnatural my black hair was or that their was no color in my eyes.

        A carriage passed by as the town Ashmont came into view. Loui, who sensed that we were close, started to perk up and walk faster. I started to think positive thoughts about the upcoming future. Maybe it wouldn't be terrible; she'd get free shelter and food, and all she had to do is protect the Shifters from danger. There probably wouldn't even be that much trouble. Not many people would try to harm the Overlord Shifter, only a complete idiot would try that. 

        Either way, I would fulfill the contract and complete. I will not be bound by others, much less the Shifters.

        {[Eamon]}

        I was hardly listening to the sermon who was droning on and on about something-or-the-like. My friend John was already dozing and by the end, so was I. Father Micheal dismissed us and I stood up with the rest of the crowd. John was rubbing his eyes when I walked up to him.

        "Eamon," he said, "These sermon's need to get better or I'll be reduced to not listening at all."

        I chuckled. "Don't you already do that, my friend? I never even thought you would be able to listen with that snore of yours."

        "I do not!" he cried, indignantly. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes so he could see me clearer. His blue icy stare melted and he punched me lightly after a minute. John was a short guy, even a bit pudgy but still a decent guy and one of my most trust-worthy friends. "Hey, how's that old man of yours?"

        "Sick as ever, never leaving the bed; nothing different." I sighed. My Father had been bed ridden ever since he could remember.

        "Better take good care of your health, don't want you to catch whatever he's got." his friend consented.

        We both walked out of the chapel and into the late June air. I adjusted my coat feeling the heat that the church had been able to keep out. Walking towards both of our homes, we conversed about the various events in the world.

        Another witch was said to have been found in a town close by, the town burned the home and all the witch's belongings but was rumored to have been escaped.

        Once at my doorstep of my home, more like mansion, I turned to say good bye to John who tipped his hat to me. "Give my consents to your Father. Wouldn't want to have death show up at his doorstep." And with that, he wandered on home.

        I entered the mansion and was greeted by Maria, the maid, who took my coat from me and hung it up. "Welcome home Master Eamon. How was Sunday Church?" she asked.

        "Quite well." I said, absently since I hadn't even paid attention to the lecture.

        Maria didn't question further but she said, "Can you please go let the Master know that he has a guest in the ballroom for him and is waiting for him?"

        "Of course." I said.

        She nodded and headed towards her usual duties.

        I made my way towards the ballroom after I got myself a glass of water instead of my Father's bedroom because it wasn't likely that he'd be able to get out of bed. Absently, I wondered what gentleman would want to see his Father. It was probably something to do with investing in a piece of land that he had set his eyes on.

        Opening the door, I didn't see quite I expected. The gigantic ballroom was empty except for a figure dresed in a black cloak, the hood pulled up. I could not see the figure's face for it was turned down, reading an old, battered book.

        I heard John's voice in my head, "... Wouldn't want death to show up at his doorstep."

        My heart almost stopped as I dropped the glass of water in my hands, letting it shatter on the marble floor, glass and watter going everywhere.

                                                                         © Molly Majors 2011

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