Stories Inspired By Class

Burn The Witch

Write one paragraph where you establish a setting that focuses on, or is interrupted by, the lighting of a match. Do not include characters or other plot elements, only setting.

      It was dark. There were no lights or windows, and not even a sliver of light coming in from under a door. It was quiet too. No air moving through a vent, no footsteps, and no sounds from outside. So the lighting of a match was like a clap of thunder in the dead of night.

     You flinch from the sound, but only to find that your movements are restrained. You're tied up. Surprise finds you, as you hadn't felt any pressure from rope on your skin.

     "Drugged~"

     A voice whispers in your head, clear as day. It's always been there, and quite useful. Then its word registers. Of course you were drugged, unable to hear, see, feel, it made sense. But what about the match? Then you start to feel something... heat, but not like a sunny day heat, this one's... different. Dangerous.

     "Fire"

     You react immediately, calling out for help, but unable to hear even yourself. As you began to sweat, your other senses started coming back to life. You could see light and shadows, and there were a lot. Then you could hear, laughing? And shouting. Lots, and lots, of shouting. Then a chant started.

     "Witch! Witch! Witch! Witch! Witch!"

     A vast pit suddenly appeared in your stomach, and you began to feel sick. The witch trials. You knew they were being held soon, but you didn't know how soon, or who was being tried.

     Then you smiled. You knew it was simply a matter of time before they found out. You sighed, and the flames below were extinguished. By then, your senses had fully returned, and you saw the astonished, frightened look on the villagers faces.

     "Caught me."

      The rope tying you to a pole turned to ash and you floated down to the ground, unharmed, and everyone stepped three paces back. You smiled at an elderly woman in front of you and she collapsed, fainting from fear. You sighed and turned, planning to walk back to your house on the hill.

"Behind you"

You raised your hand and felt a small portion of your energy drain. You turned to find a man, middle aged with gray hairs in his beard but with the build of a farmer, and clearly the tools of a farmer. He had been frozen in midair, only able to move his eyes. He had lunged at you with a gardening hoe in hand, intending to hit the back of your head at the base of your neck.

You smiled at him and his eyes shone with fear. You turned to continue walking home and waved your hand lazily, gesturing to the man behind you. He was released and fell to the ground, barely managing to move the hoe out from under him in time.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be at home." You shouted sarcastically to the people behind you, laughing to yourself as you walked away.