Witch Cake Salem Witch Trials Novels & Stories

A flash of purple light filled the kitchen and the pot on the stove exploded. She leaped out of her chair with a frightened scream and ran towards the older man by the doorway. "What the hell was that?!" He demanded as he tucked her behind him and glared at the vibrating pot, his broad shoulders growing tense. Helena peeked over his shoulder to stare at the stove and walls covered in the soup she had been cooking. "My powers have been wonky since..." She stopped when the memory of what she had done popped up alongside pain-filled screams and the wet feel of blood covering her from head to toe.

“Welcome everyone. I hope you all got some much needed rest last night. This next part of our meeting will drain you a bit. In closing of the Accords you will be signing off to what was agreed upon last evening. The items listed on your proposals and the trials to be held in a few months tops. Our witch for this event will follow up with the magic counsel to secure another to assist with the creation of the trials. You all will receive written notification about the chosen along with the trial date and events to take place. If there are questions or requests for changes we will inform each region so as to reach an agreement. If none is met we will schedule a meeting. The deadline for changes

I smile, “I look forward to finding out.” Dahlia took me back to the room and smiled as she looked around the room. She looked at the window, “Why is that window at such a weird angle?” I shrugged, “It was like that when I got here. Builders during the era of the Salem witch trials used to do that with a window in every house they built. Apparently, it was to keep witches from being able to fly through the window on their brooms.” She smiled, “I never knew that. Guess they didn’t know about the power of teleporting.” Then she walked to the window and looked out. I have no idea what she saw, but she stayed there for a while. She smiled, then turned to leave the room. As she walked by me, I co

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.

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. It always made her feel as if she

Salem had a larger population than I had originally thought. Abigail elbowed my side as Pastor Gideon continued saying, "The town of Salem has come under siege by the devil, witches are amongst us,” My stomach dropped and my heart raced, what if they find out what I am. Abigail squeezed my hand as Pastor Gideon continued, “and thanks to my dear Samuel, we can find them and cleanse them from their sins, everyone who is suspected of witchcraft will be tested."

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.

Having not like the man since he’d accused my friend Mara of being a witch and taken her away. I never saw her after that. It was safe to assume that she’d died in WitchFall. Most do. I knew. It was a massive torture chamber where witches confessed to their sins. We watched the older man coming down off the hill from his towering fortress. His powdered wig and overly elaborate cravat carefully in place. “An evil one.” My eyes narrowed. “You only say that because of his pursuit of you.” “No. There’s something wrong with him.” I insisted. “Saria, you been saying this for years.” She groaned. “He’s the most powerful man in our village and the six surrounding.”

the warriors start murmuring among themselves. "Isn't the woods declared to be dangerous for now? When did Prince Lucian found his mate? Is the rumor about a witch in Crisinda true?" The warriors asked among themselves while Russell paused for them to digest the piece of information he just passed before he continue. "Due to the rise in rogue sighting and the fruitless effort of the king to reach the prince, it is feared that the prince has most likely been abducted but we don't know where," another round of murmuring broke out among the warriors.

They were all just humans with incredible power. It is said that there was four separate covenants of whom they came from Salem. They came to these parts and formed their little colony of witches. They all had powers but all of them worked differently. There was earth witches, Water witches, Wind witches and fire witches. They all lived happily and everyone kept to their own and everyone was happy. Well at least for some time they were happy. From what the books told me, it was was that there was a time when some witches practiced dark magic which sometimes involved the sacrificing of young children. Some of the witches did not agree to this.