The Unholy Bad Witch

chapter 1

It's been a week now since the death like incident took place at the parish which is situated at the peak of the vale in a near by town. People have started wrapping new stories with all twists and turns and with all the efforts they could make to make it more ghastly and astonishing.

Everyone present in the city gathered at the parish to pray. The priests of the parish were kind enough to arrange a buffet for the people. Each one of us sat down on the plane,veil-less seats of the church to praise the lord.

That evening was very beautiful,the rays of the sun began to leak out through the pane of glass as it swayed down amidst the quiet sea. Peeking around, I swiftly fumbled my pocket for the red toast that I have saved this morning to have it with the nicely brewed black beans of the vale.
The weather in the church was quite ecstatic and full with zest. The faces were chirping with the solace they received from the sanctimonious ceremonies. The clauses from the bible were being elaborated by the head priest which was a priceless possession to the people.

It was now time to feast on the tasty treat. The room was filled with sweet laden air that rose from the berries and the cake. On the right hand side was a pitcher covered with a steel disk containing the freshly brewed black coffee and beside it, a tray full of plain luscious bread loves were kept. Everybody moved their feet towards the table, whistling and smiling, unaware of the fact which was going to happen next. After thanking god in our prayers, we all started dressing the food on our plate and the elders raised a toast which was an old tradition.

What happened next was next to impossible for a commoner to imagine. Within a matter of few seconds the weather started to bred hostility, ambiguity and the whole aura turned into a mere brumous site of mishap. The faces that were full of content perished into a pale dead flower.

The witch rose high into the sky, swirling on top of the waves with thunder and storm. The gloomy and heavy pitch of the witch uttered that we humans should bow down to her as we are nothing but weak skin and bones. The priests on seeing the witch tried contacting the priests of Rome but the weather made the wires loose and clumsy causing a hole in the communication process. People were trying to desert the church as soon as possible, many men were wounded, children were crying, the site was uttermost disappointing. The day was like an oxymoron.

The cruel witch wanted us to be her subjects, those who refused her were turned into creatures and so there were fellowmen who were afraid and shook hands with the witch.