Salem Witch Trials Novels & Stories

asked the man with the blue hair at night. "Maybe," ⚛⚛⚛ "Phew I didn't think the star road was that far," Leo complained. "I told you we got on the bikes earlier," "Hey! I don't know! Who said on maps too short!" Maybe now Aza's ears will be buzzing when he hears the chirp from Leo who doesn't stop. "Ok, where is the house?" Leo asked. "I'll open the book for a bit ... my God! Maroon, Green and Brown cube witches are gathered nearby!" exclaimed Aza excitedly.

His face hardens like stone. "Like the Salem witch trials?" I ask. He chuckles. "Kind of. But only if the humans knew that they hanged other humans conceiving them as witches." "Bloody hell! That means the witches were never executed?" "Of course not. They couldn't even get one witch on the rope. Salem witches are very powerful. And at that time, a group of them started preaching The Dark Lord which led to spreading of diseases and several deaths." "That's so dangerous!" I say when a thought clicks my head. "Umm...do you think Branson is one?"

A small town situated near Salem. Amber was a distant relative of Sarah Good, part of the Salem witch trials of 1692. Amber knew all of the historical details and often shared them with clients who queried about them. She had framed pictures all around the store of all of the witches who perished during the trials. A sad and tragic time in history. A time that still saddened Amber. A time she would never forget even though she wasn’t a part of it. Just the thought of it brought tears to her eyes and caused her terrible heartache. “Hi, Mom!” Called Leah as she entered the store and heard the tinkle of the bell. She loved the sound of the bell for some reason. I

I gesture to the book in my lap, “I guess I was inspired.” “The Salem Witch Trials is a dark subject to touch on.” The girl remarks. “But since we live in Massachusetts and it's kind of like our 'claim to fame' we have to do reports on it, every year around this time. This is my ninth report on the witch trials.” I say. Every Halloween is when we study this fascinating subject. I feel myself being drawn to the violence and misery of the stories. Morbid, I know, but I can't seem to help myself. It just fascinates me to no end.

“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.”

I began to read, and was so taken by it, I decided to read it aloud to Caleb. “Listen to this,” I said. “‘In Salem, in 1692, a large group of teenage girls suddenly fell ill. Most of them lapsed into a fit of hysteria, and screamed out that they had been attacked by witches. Many of these girls went so far as to name the witches who were afflicting them. “Because their illnesses were so mysterious, and because many of these girls died suddenly and there was no other explanation for it, the townspeople fell into a frenzy. They hunted down the people accused of witchcraft.

I found the section on witches and warlocks. The families were listed alphabetically. I scanned through them quickly, looking for one name in particular. There. Adhams. I slowed down, reading carefully. The Adhams rose to prominence during the Salem trials. The first Adham matriarch, Elspeth, awakened as a spellweaver during the persecution. She'd used her power to protect others, to shield the innocent from the flames. That protection had come at a cost. She'd revealed herself, marked herself as dangerous in the eyes of those who feared magic. But she'd survived. More than that, she'd thrived.

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 definit

She was two rows behind me and one seat to the left and I could feel her eyes on the back of my head. Master Theron continued his lecture and the words blurred together and my mind drifted. "The witches of Salem," Master Theron said. "They were not the first and they were not the last. But their fate was the most documented. Their trials were the most famous. Their deaths were the most brutal." I pressed my hands together under the desk. "Nineteen people were hanged. One man was pressed to death. Several died in jail. The rest were left to live with the memory of what had been done to them."

Set said they were diverting from whatever Avo and Lucifer were talking about. "You mean the good witches, not the dark ones," I asked. "There is no such thing as good or evil Omerta, or at least no one is born with it; it's all about choices and decisions." Avo felt very strongly about this, so even though I had questions, I decided to drop them for now. "All witches, including the witches of Salem," Set added. "Are you saying the witch trial at Salem had actual witches?" "Not all of them, but a few. Most of them were just willful women." This time Avo answered, with distaste in his voice.