Historical Fiction About Salem Witch Trials Novels & Stories

Her daughter knew everything and she had the gift to. I couldn't believe what they had been through, killed because of a gift they were born with. I knew of the Salem trials, we had read about them when I was in school. And I knew how any woman with a brain who spoke her spoke her truth was killed off as a witch. Then there were those who actually were witches and knew how to use magic but I didn't that back then. But this was Jasper's history, his legacy, his ancestors and they had almost all of them met a gruesome end.

“What Luke is not telling you is that witches and Lycans do not mix. Witches are thought to be evil, deriving their powers from the devil or some such drivel. Anyhow, there was a massive witch hunt, I am sure you learned about it in school.” “The Salem Witch Trials? That involved the Lycans?” I sank against his sculpted chest and felt his chin rest on the top of my head. “I don’t understand. That was in the sixteen-hundreds.” “It was between February 1692 and May 1693. Over 200 people were accused, and it was recorded that nineteen were executed by hanging, fourteen women and five men. Another man was pressed to death and at least five died in the terrible jail conditions. Then in the 17th c

Anytime I try to recall that child, or any fragment of the life I supposedly have, I always end up with a splitting headache. So I've come to terms, that if I don't recall it, it doesn't exist. Even if the media had once talked about it, they could as well as be lying. Since they lied that Salem kidnapped me and he tried to traffic me. Even though it was Abigail behind everything. They just painted her as a bystander and made Salem take the fall and didn't even utter a thing about Emmette being at the scene of the crime. Anytime I thought about that man, my blood boiled. And something tells me that he's behind the reason why Salem is taking the fall.

Hard telling how long it would take to find what I was looking for. The pages of the grimoire were incredibly old and stiff as I carefully paged through. Some of the spells dated back to the fifteen hundreds, before the Salem Witch Trials. But it was known that the people they had executed weren't witches. In my short time in the supernatural world, even I knew that there was no way to catch a witch who didn't want to be caught. He or she could easily transport anywhere they wanted and escape. In the grimoire, there were spells of all kinds. One spell was for making the crops grow well. There was a killing spell with a warning not to use it lightly and definitely not in the heat of passion.

I make a conclusion from both of their story, and it seems I was right. “Yes, why do you think Salem's witch’s trial happened? One of the spell casters frame the witch because they were outnumbered back then.” Zephyr said while he goes to put on some clothes. Elm looks at Zephyr and tilted his head, “I got another version of the story, from my Nonna, she told me that it was because the spell caster doesn’t want to share this realm together, and wanted to banish all the witches.” “Well, to be fair, both versions were equally disgusting.” I said to Elm, and not long after, I begin to yawn, and lay beside Aaron. “I think I need my beauty sleep now. The two of you could use the other bed.”

“The families fled from Salem during the witch trials under one coven. But as time went on the elders of the coven began to disagree and they split.” Continuing to flip through the pages of one of the books, Abigale’s fingers land on the page that she is looking for and she pushes it in my direction. Sitting in a stunned silence for several moments, I just stare at the page unable to absorb any of the words that I am reading. Finally snapping out of my trance, I actually read the page in front of me.

Clearing her mind, she imagined the tension draining from her head, neck, shoulders, and so on down until she got to her feet and sent the stress into the carpet beneath her soles. Opening her eyes, she glanced the glass. The water was motionless. All was still. Her shoulders slumped in relief. It was time to leave. She had to get answers about her roots, her family's past. In college, she'd been drawn to that very thing. History. That path had led her to a degree in Religion with a focus on myths and cultures, including the occult and witchcraft. In fact, she'd taught several courses on the history of Paganism and modern Wiccan practices. Massachusetts was steeped in tradition based off the

After all, what we don't know, can't hurt us. Now more about me, I am a Witch through my bloodline. I am a descendant of Elizabeth Howe, who was hanged as a Witch on the 19th of July 1692 during the Salem Witch Trials. The sad part about it is she was a Witch, but a White Witch who just wanted to live happily raising her six children.

Alice pretends to inspect the books' covers as we walk. "You know the Salem Witch trials?" she whispers. I nod. "Of course." "The Silver Hunters were founded by some of their descendants." I frown. "Huh? For what purpose?" We stop walking and she looks around to make sure no one is close. "Because they had something against witches. But then it grew as they discovered there are more than witches out there. Now they're hunting everyone." We're almost to the wall where she showed me the secret book, the one she said we weren't supposed to know about.

"What are the others?" Bella asked, shoving the book back in its place. "This one is a seventeenth-century guide to vampires, written by William H. Winters," he said, holding up a large black tome. "He was one of the most influential members of the Family and largely responsible for a little debacle some folks call the Salem Witch Trials. Or, as her teacher probably likes to call him, Great Uncle Bill." Bella was lightheaded again, and her temples were pounding, but there was no vampire mind control or mark to blame it on now. Only horror. "We have to get out of here," she said, staggering to her feet.