June 10th 1692
The incessant pounding continued upon the front door. So this is what being agitated by an angry mob is like I realized. I’ve often wondered how I’d react to something as cliché as a lynch mob after my head. I leaned back in my new found host’s rickety old rocking chair, and looked around the room.
It was of the crudest of settings that I had chosen to take my stand. I’ve been preparing for this day for a very long time and the fruition of my efforts was close at hand. A log cabin, the interior walls daubed to prevent moisture from seeping in. A make shift chimney and potbelly stove sat in the far corner directly across from the door barring the mob. The doors hinges protested under the strain.
“You will burn for your pact with Satan, witch!” called a familiar voice from outside.
Ah, that would be the voice of the man that was the main focus of my scheme all along. Poor Tituba, the Indian slave woman I chose as my host. Collateral damage as it were, she will burn. By that time I will have vacated her body and return to my own time in the late 20th century. I looked down and caressed the belly that held the child of Reverend Samuel Parris. Soon that child would die by the hand of his own father and poor Sam wouldn’t even know that he had killed the only descendant he would ever have. I smiled and leaned back in the rocker, how wonderfully my planed had worked.
But I should begin my retelling of this story at the beginning, or as close to the beginning as needed. My name is Eulacard ET Ildylia, I am the Grandmaster Warlock of the Order of the Crimson Rose, and I am the sole cause of the Salem Witch Trials.
January 19th 1692
The moonlight shown down through the trees illuminating the path of the two young girls’ as they ran through the woods.
“Elizabeth Wait!” called out Abigail.
Nine year old Elizabeth stopped near an old oak and waited for her companion to catch up.
“Hush now Abigail or you’ll wake the entire town.” chided Elizabeth.
Abigail and Elizabeth giggled as they headed deeper into the forest.
“Where exactly are you taking me Elizabeth?”
“You’ll see, it’s magnificent, you won’t believe your eyes.” said Elizabeth.
She snatched at Abigail’s hand and led her around a large section of briar bushes and into a small clearing. The ghostly full moon bathed the clearing in light. Abigail stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what lay in the center of the clearing on a bed of dried leaves and twigs.
“Oh my, is that what I think it is?” asked Abigail
“Yes, isn’t he magnificent?”
“Is he dead?” she asked
“No, he is very much alive. He called out to me from my bed chambers. He needs our help.” said Elizabeth
Laying face down was the naked form of a grown man. From their vantage points they couldn’t see his face but the slow rise and fall of his back gave hint that he was only sleeping. Elizabeth slowly walked out into the clearing being careful not to disrupt his slumber.
“No, come back Liz, he maybe dangerous.” warned Abigail.
But she heeded not the warning of her best friend and waved her to silence.
Slowly she crept upon him as he lay there peacefully. Ever so slowly she reached down to his shoulder. Closer and closer the tips of her fingers came to his skin. And closer and closer to the inevitable Elizabeth reached out to her fate. If only the two young girls had know the evil that had spirited itself to the woods just outside of their town in Salem Massachusetts they may have never ventured into that clearing that night.
But they had, and their screams where never heard as I bathed in their blood. January 19th 1692 was the commencement of my machination. I possessed their bodies with the demons that would help me to fulfill my plan. Satan was in attendance that night and he imbibed pure pleasure from my sacrilege to him. The next five months would be the down fall of my enemies.
January 20th 1692
The next day I watched from my haven in the woods as the two young girls exhibited the behavior of children possessed by Satan. Screaming obscenities, blasphemous chatter, and attacking passerby’s provoked the town’s people to come to the only logical conclusion there was.
“They’ve got the devil in them!” yelled one of the locals.
The children’s parents couldn’t figure out what had become of their young, innocent daughters. And so they were put under the scrutinous eye of the town elders. Reverend Samuel Parris led a fasting and prayer session to help exercise the evilness from the young girl’s bodies. I reveled in the pleasure of seeing it all come together so nicely. What fools, I was playing them all like the puppeteer would his puppets. It was so easy.
February 26th 1692
After almost of a month of trying every ailment possible to “cure” the children the town was at a loss. I had to make sure the people of Salem were properly primed, and now it was time to give them a target to focus their frustrations upon. In the early morning hours 11 year old Abigail Williams screamed out for her mother. Her parents rushed into her room and found her lying on the floor. Her blood soaked night gown clinging to her body.
“What’s happened!” cried her mother.
Abigail was shaking and could barely speak. As her mother shook her trying to revive her Abigail whispered a name. A name that I had implanted into her mind through her dreams that night.
“Tituba.”
In Elizabeth’s room a very similar event was taking place at the exact same moment. Only she spoke the name of two other women Sarah Good, and Sarah Osborne. Unfortunately for them they were innocent bystanders of my plan. But necessary pawns nonetheless. They would help fuel the anger of the town by denying the accusations of the two young girls.
“They’re Witches.” cried the young girls.
“They cast spells upon us that night in the woods and they are in league with Lucifer himself” accused Elizabeth and Abigail.
February 29th 1692
Warrants were issued for the arrest of Tituba, Good, and Osborne. It had worked, now it was my time to step into a more adamant role in this plan of mine. Tonight I will posses the body of Tituba and go to her master. Tonight I will plant the seed in her womb so that I may destroy it and once and for all rid myself of the scourge of my existence.
That night I floated as a mist into her log cabin just outside of the church. As she lay sleeping in her bed I reached out with my magic and seized her soul replacing it with my essence. I stood inside her body and made my way into the chambers of the good Reverend. I positioned her over his bed and looked down at his sleeping form. A few quickly uttered words and he would soon be under my spell. I could feel the power of my master flowing through me as I reveled in its warmth. I cast the spell and watched as his eyes slowly opened and looked up at what he thought was his young Indian slave girl. I dropped the burlap shirt that she had been wearing and climbed into bed with the priest.
Over the next several hours I forced her body to partake of his and made sure that the seed was planted. Then as he slept I let the spell over him fade and left his chambers to return to the log cabin.
March 1st 1692
The next morning I woke as the town’s people gathered outside the door to arrest Tituba. One of them being Reverend Samuel, who didn’t even know that only a few short hours before he had laid with Tituba in the clutches of my magic and impregnated her. I let them capture me; it was all happening exactly as it should.
Tituba, Good, and Osborne were taken directly to the town hall and examined by the local judges. Good, and Osborne stood their ground and proclaimed that the accusations were false. I on the other hand would not be so kind to Tituba, I confessed to being a witch and I told the ignorant judges that Satan had came to me many times over the past month in the form of a dog or a great hog beast. And that I was involved in circle of witches that consisted of several other members of the community. We were all three thrown to the dungeons and told that we would be hanged.
Over the next several weeks many people were accused and tried as witches. I held my position over Tituba’s soul and bathed in my success. The trials were well under way and there were only a few more pieces that I had to fit into place to fulfill my quest. My covenant would take control in the year 1999 and the century long struggle between the Ildylia family and the Parris family would be at an end. I would hold the power to govern my order unopposed. For you see, it was the great, great, great, great grandson of Reverend Samuel Parris, Luther Parris, that had formed the witch hunters guild known as Witch Bane. The group that had kept me and my children hiding in the underbelly of modern society cowering like dogs. But it was all falling into place, how wonderful it would be to rule unchecked.
June 9th 1692
I let a few months pass. And soon the dungeon was full of accused. One of those accused was Bridge Bishop. It was said that within the next few days Bishop was going to be hanged for the practice of witchcraft. That would be the first official death of a prisoner for such crimes. Tonight was the night that I would bury the dagger of my vengeance into the Parris family. Just before midnight still lingering in the body of Tituba I escaped the prison and like a ghost in the night I floated in my misty form to the bed chamber of Reverend Parris one final time. Only this time I would not fool him with spells. In the voice and visage of Tituba I called out to him. Parris woke with a start.
“Who’s there?” he said.
“It is I, you’re lover.” I said
“I’ve come to have my way with you.”
“What is this nonsense? Tituba, is that you?” he asked
“Of course it is my dear Reverend.” I spat the word like it was a vile poison.
“Do you not want my body? Am I not good enough for you this night?”
He sat up rubbing his sleepy eyes. I ran to the side of his bed and pushed him back down. I shed my clothes as a snake sheds its skin and climbed upon the Reverend.
“What is this blasphemy you witch” he yelled
I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed cutting the wind from his voice.
“Hush. It will all be over soon enough my lord.” I said as I watched the terror in his eyes. I slapped him once and then released my grip upon his neck. In a fit of terror and rage he grabbed my by the arms and threw me off the bed. I let him over power me and screamed as he slapped me across the face several times. Then smiled at him through bloody teeth just before I spit blood into his face. He jumped back and screamed as my blood burned his skin like acid.
I summoned my most terrifying voice and cursed his name.
“I lay a curse upon you Reverend. Satan is my new lover and we curse your loin Samuel. From this day forth you will no longer be able to bear children. Your line ends with you. No son will you bear to carry on the Parris name.”
And with those words I cast the spell that would render Reverend Parris infertile. I yelled one last curse his direction and vanished from his room.
June 10th 1692
The next evening Bishop was hanged by the neck and became the first public execution of a witch. It was late evening and the sun was setting on the town square. They led Bishop up to the gallows tied to a cross atop a mule drawn cart. The people of the town pelted her with miscellaneous debris. From the shadows I watched as the town constable slid the noose over her neck and pulled the latch letting the trap door beneath her fall away. The Reverend was standing next to the gallows with his bible in hand praying that the evil spirits be banished from this poor wretch’s soul as Bridget Bishops convulsed and died. Now was the perfect time. I came running out of the darkness of the setting sun cursing Parris’ name.
The entire crowd of people turned and watched in amazement as I ran toward the Reverend bowling him over and screaming unintelligibly.
“Stop her! She has tried to lay a curse upon us all.” cried Parris as I ran for the church ignoring the cries from the crowd. I heard them all start to give chase. Soon it would all be over.
I run around the front of the church and headed into the log cabin that had once been the home of Tituba. Using a small ward spell I barred the door from the mob giving pursuit. And I believe this brings us back to where we began this story.
The incessant pounding continued upon the front door. So this is what being agitated by an angry mob is like I realized. I’ve often wondered how I’d react to something as cliché as a lynch mob after my head.
“You will burn for your pact with Satan, witch!” cried Samuel
It was time, I would let the spell down and the lynch mob would rush in to take me to the gallows and there I would be hanged. I caressed my stomach, the belly of Tituba the Indian slave that was pregnant with the child of Reverend Samuel Parris. Tituba’s death would end the only family line of Parris and ensure the survival of the Order of the Crimson Rose my family’s covenant. And my curse would make sure that he would never again sire a son.
I dropped the spell and the door to the small cabin exploded into splinters as the angry town folk poured into the cabin. They snatched up Tituba and carried her to the gallows, all the while she was screaming and crying that she was innocent. Poor, poor Tituba I still remember the gurgling sound as she choked and died at the end of the noose. And just for effect, as my final spell in this time and place I summoned the hottest fire from the depths of hell and cast it upon the gallows watching as it burst into flame. Tituba’s dangling body still kicking as it burned before the people of Salem’s very eyes.
My name is Eulacard ET Ildylia, I am the Grandmaster Warlock of the Order of the Crimson Rose. I possessed the body of Tituba and caused her to be accused of being a witch. I exacted my revenge upon the Parris family, and I am the sole cause of the Salem Witch Trials.
