A sinister Tale of excitement and enlightenment...

The Last Witch Burnt @ Spott - A Sinister Tale

I'd heard of 'Witches' of course. They were dark evil creatures that skulked across the earth, creeping through dense forests searching for strange roots and the blood of beasts to brew into murderous potions. They dwelt in caves or shacks full of mutilated toads, exotic herbs and old grey empty stone skulls of victims past. These dim devilish covens lit fires at dusk cackling together in threes and sevens creating grim prophecies to slay simple folk. Each killing increasing their powers. Evil spells of the darkest magic were cast against village dwellers, the church and Christ himself. The Witches were feared by all .

It never even occurred to me that I was one of them – a Witch. How could I be? I was just Myra, a housemaid. I didn't know what I was until they told me.

"Ya a Witch. Devilish wench possessed by the darkness of the fallen angel Lucifer!" My master roared at me. "The evil demons will be burned from you... saving your torrid soul. Your ashes may turn to dust and with God's mercy heaven may receive you, else you will plunged for eternity to the fires of hell!"

I sat on a stool in front of the inglenook fireplace in the kitchen looking up at him. Copper pots and pans suspended from oak beams glinting in the firelight. Orange and purple flames flickered, hissing a warning that diabolical things were about to occur. My master's dark aura was suffocating. Every sense I possessed was on high alert. My stomach churned with fear. Bad things happened to me when he was angry. I could have hurt him in retaliation, but I chose not to. I was a healer and offered only warmth to the folk I knew. Hatred and the desire for violence were alien to me. This would change, but I had no awareness of my shadow side at that time.

Master Jonathan Hosie's eyes were manic with excitement. I was young and naïve at seventeen and his ranting made no sense to me. I just watched his mouth moving, words pouring in a spiteful torrent from his thin bigoted red lips. Those same lips that had for many years travelled over the most intimate parts of my body when he saw fit to satisfy his sexual urges. One thing I did know. He had shown me no mercy pleasuring himself with my body, and there would be no grace or favour from him now.

Since childhood, a warm comfort had poured from the centre of my palms whenever I was hurt or upset. The hot energy soothed and healed the pain from grazed knees after I had fallen or remedied a bruised head after a bad beating from my master. My friends would come to me to be healed when injured or distressed. No one even thought twice about it or questioned it. It was just the way it was.

An orphan of ten, I had been given to the care of the local school master Mr Jonathan Hosie. He was the headmaster of a prestigious public school in East Lothian. I received a bed and roof over my head, food and clothing in return for my skills running the home, cooking, washing and whatever my master wanted of me. I was a commodity to be enjoyed and used.

That fateful night, the moon was in shadow. A mere strip of curved yellow, barely visible. The stars veiled by smoky clouds were sheltered from the site of the horror taking place on earth. The Witches knew no such luxury. Instead they had to bear the atrocity of the darkest side of life: sanctimonious fearful humanity; a heady mix of torture and sentence.

I gazed into Jonathan's small shrivelled dead eyes. He held a mirror in front of my face. My green eyes were huge, bright and pure of sin as I stared back at him. As he raised his arm to strike me I saw a piercing rage flicker amidst the black of my pupils before a sickening hollow feeling encompassed my skull. Knocked from my stool, I flew through the air landing with a painful thud on the cold red flagstone. Gasping for air, I wondering fleetingly if I were about to die. Jonathan placed the mirror in front of my eyes.

"You watch as I purge the demons from you. " He muttered, undoing his trousers. His breath was wet and stank of stale garlic. He positioned the mirror so I could watch my eyes. He had plans for me other than immediate death. Via the mirror, I saw a light in my eyes. An intensity had come to them. At that moment I knew that no matter what he did my soul would remain intact. Nothing and no one would ever ruin my spirt. I was too strong.