The Stregacattivo Witches
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It is a story set in 1687 and 1692 about three sisters who took it upon themselves to get involved with witchcraft: the oldest sister, Elizabeth Stregacattivo, is known throughout the town as the most dangerous witch. You'll read this story about magic, romance, sisterhood, and murder. (There are a lot of words that I wrote that were used in this century so if a word seems to be written weirdly it's because of how they used to speak then)
This is an original story I wrote in 2022. It took me 4 months and a lot of encouragement to finish this. I've had a lot of friends read this and a few teachers have all told me it's a good story. My ELA teacher last year was obsessed with this.
The three main characters are based on me and my two younger twin sisters, a bit of the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus, and a little bit of Wednesday Addams at the end only because by the time I finished writing this I became supper into Wednesday (I still am)
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First off, it's all those damn witches fault. I knew I shouldn't have killed their mother, but its not like I had a choice! It is-or was-my job to slay, back in 1692. Yea, that long ago. But we were living in a primitive world and the word "witch" got to anyone's ears, and all hell would break loose. Those damn women, three girls all of the marrying age at the time, their mother was accused of witchcraft. It was my job to dispose of the witches. I was the executioner after all, but I was supposed to do it as if it were an accident. The night I went after the girls mother, they were home and watched me do it. Crying, sobbing, screaming at me to stop. But I couldn't, I wasn't allowed. At the end I felt something happening to me, I was getting dizzy and everything was hazy. I heard the three girls speaking-no, cursing me in unison. "You have slain our mother, an innocent women. She had not been dabbling in witchery, she only kept our secret. For having killed our mother, we curse you and your family to roam the world as immortals. Never growing old after the age of twenty one and turning into the beasts you are at the age sixteen. Every night when the moon rises, you and your family shall turn into giant beasts. Beasts bigger than bears but in the body of a wolf. Each night you will kill and you must live with the guilt of the murders you are capable of. Are you satisfied with the blood you've shed tonight?!" Those words are burned into my skull, never leaving. The witches were hanged a few days later, on the night of a full moon. That's when my curse began. Present day, it's easier to hide nowadays from the community. Nobody is looking for me, trying to hunt me down and kill me. At least, not that I know of. But anyways, my name is Fiona Mansfield. I was only seventeen years old when I was an executioner in the Salem Witch Trials. Three witches cast a spell on my family and me, that was 322 years ago. I am 339 now and my family and I are werewolves.
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