Novel & Cerita Historical Fiction About Salem Witch Trials

“So if they stole the moonstone, they probably took it with them?” “Yes, that moonstone isn’t in the forest… I think.” I inhaled deeply. “When did the witches start to move into the human world?” “I have no idea… I have heard about Salem witch trial. The humans executed some witches. If we find out when that happened we can have an idea. Why don’t you search it up?” she said. I quickly picked up my phone and opened the search engine. The Salem witch trial took place between February and May of 1692. That was over 300 years ago.

For the first time in history, my kind was being hunted. The humans terrified themselves with campfire stories of monsters who would hunt them and their children and suck their souls from their necks. It was like the witch trials all over again, only without the farcical trials and ridiculous displays of the dunking chair and other such idiocies. The ordeal of the cold water, that is what the most common practice of determining whether a woman was a witch or not, became known as. My people were afforded no such thing. Times had moved forward, or perhaps sideways would be more apt.

Magnusson told looking at the window. “I can understand them being shy about coming out to the public. They have stepped into the light before, and it didn’t end well.” Dimitri told them he could recall the Salem Witch Trials and the horrors the women went through. The deaths weren’t pretty, and most of them weren’t even witches. “No, it didn’t. Many women and men died. I still can’t believe such things happened,” Majesta spoke in almost a whisper. Magnusson squeezed her leg under the table, letting her know he was there for her.

Jeniece, though still weak, sat up and stared into the fire, her eyes distant as she began to speak, her voice trembling with memories long buried. "When the Salem trials began," she started, her voice low, "it was nearly impossible for a witch to survive. What they did to witches was worse than death. Imagine being dragged to the town square, knowing that you'll be torn apart piece by piece, and the worst part? It happens while you're still alive. They made a spectacle of it, using torturous tools in front of crowds—men, women, even children, forced to watch the horror unfold."

"You know how I'm a descendent of the Towne sisters?" "Yeah," I said slowly. "Well, apparently, they really were witches and powerful ones too." She crossed her legs. "I thought we decided if the sisters were real witches, they would've kicked some serious townspeople butt and escaped or turned the accusers into frogs." That was the story Cindy and I told each other since second grade when we first found out she was a descendant. Our teacher, Miss Field, taught us about the Salem Witch Trials and the Salem Hysteria in social studies.

“Why would there be anything about my scar?” “Not your scar. You know how good I am at cracking the secret ones. And the older witches like to gossip about back in their day. Especially when they come in contact with another witch or being that they’ve fought in battle with or did something crazy with. You know tall tales and all.” she laughed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. After Ember and I do the memory thing though.” I offered. “So. How did Jamerson take you being mated?”

I believe you. He made the observation that "there was a lot of vampire hunting going on back in the early seventeenth and eighteenth centuries," when referring to the time period. "There was a lot of ridiculous superstition back then. a search for witches. Vampire hunters. A great number of innocent persons were killed." She was aware of the fact. She learned about the Salem witch trials in school, and then expanded her knowledge by conducting extra study online. She had occasionally overheard her father discussing ancestors who had been slaughtered prior to the werewolf community going underground. These ancestors had been werewolves.

Gritting my teeth, I settled on one channel and listened to the full exchange. "With us in the studio, we have a professor emeritus from Southern Coast College, Doctor Eli Horowitz. Doctor, what does this mean? Witches were thought to have died out after the trials of the sixteen-hundreds," the anchor said. The professor was a short, heavyset man with thinning hair. He smiled at her and shook his head. "The Salem Witch Trials were, as we all know, driven by hysteria and fear of real witches. In my book, Where Are They: The Truth About Witches, I go into greater detail about that particular era in history. It was my theory that the Spanish Inquisition, which ran from the mid-fourteen-hundreds

I could notice something etched on her forehead. It was a mark, a sigil of some sorts. It was a straight line with two other lines crossing on it, meeting at the top intersection. I knew that mark, I have come across it before. It was the mark of Saetani, the sleep demon. During the late 1600, Saerah Dumire was a witch caught during the Salem witch trial and was accused of practicing dark witchcraft.

“It was made for a very specific purpose.” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “What kind of purpose?” I asked, my curiosity growing by the second. Harmona met my gaze, her expression hardening slightly, as if the memory of what she was about to say was too heavy to bear. “During the Salem Witch Trials,” she began, her voice lowering, “when women were tested for magic, they had a way to avoid being caught. They could temporarily transfer their magic to another person—living or dead—and become human. For a time.”