Wicked

Intro

Salem, Massachusetts -- July 19th, 1692

"Sarah Good, thou hath accused of Witchcraft," the Magistrate's voice boomed with authority, but all Sarah could focus on was the bushy mustache and the protruding gut on the man in front of her. She was supposed to be afraid, she knew that, but Sarah had always been a little different.

She had powers.

"I scorn that," She responded with a quick flip of her tongue. Sarah had a way with words. If she were born in a different time, people would call her feisty. However, Sarah had been born in the 1600s, so they called her a Witch. 

The whole town, Salem Village, was gathered around. It was a small town and things like this did not happen. Except for today, they did and no one was going to miss this: the burning of a Witch. They were going to watch one of their neighbors be cleansed through fire.

"Nay, thou have been found to be sorting with the Devil. You cannot scorn that." He shook his head, the brim of his hat pointed down.

Sarah knew it was that wrench Abigail. She had convinced the town Sarah was a Witch. Despite it being Abigail that came to Sarah, asking for fertility help. Sarah clenched her fists, her face full of disdain. She had been told by Tituba, not to trust her. But no, Sarah was full of greed and took the girls payment.

Now, there were all going to be hanged. Tituba, Sarah, Elizabeth Howe, Bridget Bishop, and Sarah Osburne. The rest of the girls had held their tongue, so they would hang. Sarah had started spewing at the Magistrate, who decided hanging was too good for Sarah.

No, they needed to burn her -- to make an example that they would fight fire with fire. Tituba's stormy eyes bore into Sarah Good's. It was her way of asking if she wanted help. She couldn't save them, but she could make the experience less painful. Tituba knew if she used her powers to get out of this mess, her children's lives would be at stake. She couldn't and wouldn't risk it.

It was the same reason Sarah Good wasn't putting up (much of) a fight. The night before, Tituba had whispered something into Sarah's ear. She told her to be brave, for her family. Family. Sarah Good, loved her children and respected her husband, but she wanted more. She was like a moth to a flame when it came to power. She was vengeful for it and would do pretty much anything to acquire it.

Plus, she knew something the other women didn't: there was an escape route. She had someone very powerful who was going to bring her back. Unfortunately, that meant going along with Tituba's spell and dying.

All last night, Sarah Good stayed upright in her cell, perfecting the spell. A spell, that would bring her back and every generation of Witches after her, making them stronger. She was thinking about this as the Magistrate and his cohorts tightened the ropes around her wrist. A boy, yanked on the rope one last time, Sarah bit her bottom lip to not outwardly wince.

She was not going to show fear in front of these people. She hated Salem with every fiber in her body, but it was a very powerful spot. Tituba had told her of the powers that had come before either of them, saturating the land with pure un-tapped power. The land was asking for someone like Sarah to cut open into it, exposing the rough outer layer between the worlds.

"Thou shall see, in front of everyone that we shall not suffer a Witch to live. As God hath protested, we shall see how Evil dies." Hawthorne, the acting Magistrate, was one for the dramatics. He loved a good Witch hunt and lived for moments where he was the center of the crowd. Sarah Good openly stared at him. His eyes narrowed and brows almost completely squished together.

She knew she looked Evil. It was something her mother had always told her to be wary of. She always chided Sarah for frowning because she gave a great illusion of anger. It didn't help that Sarah had hair the color of blood and skin so fair it appeared translucent. She was also a tall woman with a figure that captivated many men and intimidated women around her. Her mother had tried to hide her body, layering clothes atop her. Yet, it didn't matter: she was beautiful and she loved the attention it brought her.

Because of this, she was married before one would even think of marriage, but her first husband, John passed away. He had been a mean man, so Sarah Good had poisoned him in his sleep. It wasn't too long after that when William Good asked for her hand in marriage. She graciously accepted, he was far richer than her first husband. 

Before she knew it, she was pregnant with a girl: Dorothy. It wasn't long before Sarah Good was bored of William. She searched and found someone who acquired the same taste of vengeance. It was several years later, she became pregnant again. She gave birth to Mercy, who as much William loved her was not his kin.

Mercy's father's identity was only known by Sarah Good herself. She wouldn't spill a single word in fear of risking her return back to this world. Mercy's father was going to bring Sarah back after she died. She wasn't sure exactly how, but in a twisted wicked way, she trusted him.

And so it began... the legacy of Sarah Good and the beginning of the Good Witches. Sarah tried to focus hard on this as the men droned on. Hawthorne grabbed a torch and held it ridiculously close to her flesh. It danced on her skin. The crowd watched in agony as she threw her head back and laughed.

"You fools!" She tried to lurch towards them, but the ropes were too tight. The people in the crowd backed away. Sarah saw mothers reach for their children, holding them away from Sarah. This made her laugh even more, although there was still a piece inside Sarah that would miss her own children.

She thought of her youngest child: Mercy, who was still a baby. She knew in her heart the child wouldn't survive, yet maybe with her sacrifice, it would. Instead of weeping, Sarah grew very calm. Sarah found Hawthorne and forced him to look at her in the eyes.

"If you take my life away, God will give you blood to drink," Sarah's voice boomed out of her, almost unrecognizable. Sarah thought it might be due to the fire, spreading up her legs, growing into an intolerable heat. Sarah clenched her teeth, fearing her protection spell was fading. The flames grew, feeding on Sarah.

Sarah looked for Tituba, knowing her calm eyes would relax her. She found them and saw Tituba was muttering something. There were about twenty feet away, so Tituba could feel the heat and the ashes were blowing towards her. Tituba was barefoot and her clothes were basically rags.

She completely disregarded the women next to her: Sarah Osborne, Bridget Bishop, and Elizabeth Howe. The only thing she cared about was Sarah Good, the only person she would call a friend. Tituba wished there was a way to save both of them, but she knew her family came first.

As she told Sarah Good, the only way to make sure they could come back, would be if their blood was passed on. They needed a living, breathing host to enter, and they had to share blood. Tituba feared the world would be vastly different by the time they had enough power to come back. She knew deep within her dark heart that someday, maybe a thousand years from now, they would come back.

Tituba could see the veil around Sarah fading and her protection spell with it. She started chanting, the women next to her stirred. She began to wail and the men guarding them tried to stop Tituba. She didn't. She kept chanting, knowing it would preserve Sarah's powers. She felt the rope loop around her throat, tightened against her skin. She was straining to chant, but she started praising her Goddess.

It wasn't the same as the other people living in Salem. Someone, she didn't see who, put a hood over her head. Then, before Tituba could finish the spell she was shoved. Then everything faded into black. Sarah saw the event unfold: Tituba tried to save her one last time, but they killed her. Tituba's body swung back and forth due to the force they used to push her off the landing.

Next, they shoved Sarah Osborne, then Elizabeth Howe and then lastly Bridget Bishop. Sarah didn't want to look at the dead empty bodies. Instead, she looked out into the crowd and wailed one last time. The flames engulfed her completely.

"You will all perish, Goddess willing you will all burn." And with that, the Salem Witch Trials truly began.

Sarah Good was buried by her husband. Her daughters: Dorothy and Mercy were the only living relatives from Sarah Good's bloodline. Dorothy and Mercy both gave birth to one daughter, each unusual in their own way.