The Salem Witch Trial Files

The Salem Witch Trial Files #34

The foggy weather was highly unusual for hanging witches, but it had to be done. John was aware that his wife, May, was unjustly accused, but it was necessary.

 “John, do you so solemnly swear, on the Holy Bible, that you have seen your wife dabbling in witchcraft?” the priest asked sharply.

“I do.”

"Can you recount how you found out?" the priest inquired.

"Yes sir. When we were first married, around 3 years ago, I noticed strange things around the house, things that wouldn't happen before, when I was a bachelor. I would notice that things would move from place to place when no one touched them. Sometimes I would hear sobbing and screams from inside the house when there was no one but me in the house. Her room often smelled of rotten flesh, but her room only, the rest of the house smelled fine - good even. I often noticed that May would disappear for hours at a time, and when she turned up, she was saying strange things. But what I noticed most of all was that May would never join me in evening prayers. On the contrary, however, it seemed that she would go as far away from me as possible when I would pray. Then, a couple of days ago, I found her murmuring strange things in the devils name. I heard her cast spells and enchantments. She was shaking and foaming at the mouth while she praised the devil, her body floating in the air. I was terrified and remembered the other women who have been convicted of witchcraft. I realized that her actions mimicked theirs and I assumed she was a witch. The very next day, I confronted her about her actions and my suspicions. In the beginning, she denied everything, but as I questioned her further, she admitted to following the devil. She began to praise the devil and stated that if I told anyone, the devil would get me. At this, I decided to turn her to the church."

“I feel I have heard enough. Hang her," the priest ordered.

May’s screams tore across the church. 

“This is not true. I swear. I'm not a witch," she sobbed, her breath uneven and ragged.

As the men dragged May away to hang her, John walked out, his purpose done and unable to look at her any longer. It was bad enough, he thought, that I condemned her to this horrible fate. I cannot watch her be hung for a crime she didn’t commit. 

He swiftly walked away from the church and walked toward town. As he walked away from the commotion, his eyes fell upon a majestic willow tree. He walked past the tree, past the butcher's shop, and turned sharply onto a deserted street. He quickened his pace, not unlike a jog, and headed straight. He hurriedly turned to the right and slowed upon the sight of a small cottage. He knocked on the door - a little harder than was expected. 

A woman’s figure opened the door. “John, I hadn’t expected you to come this early.” 

“Convicting her was far easier than planned, Bella. They were more than ready to believe that someone was dabbling in the dark arts, and I accused her. Are we alone?” 

“Yes, but John… now, what?”

“I don’t know; I just don’t know,” John started to weep. “I did this so we could be together, but I didn’t think I would take it so hard.” John buried his face in his hands, attempting to shake his guilt.   

“Come, have some tea. Surely you‘ll feel better.” Bella’s persuading hands led him away, like a meek lamb guided by a shepherd. 

John stayed there longer than expected making plans for a future with Bella. She was wrong, John reflected as he came walking out of her house. It will never be better. Not even a future with her will make it better. How can I live knowing I sentenced an innocent person to death - for my personal interest, no less.

Taking the shortest route to his house, he unconsciously passed the gallows. It was then he saw a sight that made him shiver: May’s body, hanging on that willow tree. 

John revolted at the sight of the mass of flesh swaying slightly in the wind. Head pounding, he suddenly dropped to the cold ground. John attempted to get up, but his knees buckled, and he collapsed. 

Wild-eyed and frantic, John attempted to crawl the rest of the way home but made no progress, for his fingers only clawed the cold-packed earth over and over in the same spot. He gibbered to himself, cursing his dead wife, cursing his lover Bella, but most of all, cursing himself. 

John looked up suddenly, and he noticed the body emitting a strange, eerie glow. 

This cannot be real.

He watched in terror as the hanging body untied the rope from its neck and floated toward him slowly, its feet never touching the ground beneath him. 

My sanity has fled.

John shot up in panic and started to run but only to find that to his dismay, the body had appeared right in front of him. He tried to run in the opposite direction, but it was as if an irresistible force drew him to it. 

She wants her revenge! 

The body forced him toward the tree, where May’s rope still hung. The figure stretched its hand towards John, and he was pushed back so that the rope was above his head. With graceful elegance, the body snapped its pale fingers, and the rope loosened and wrapped itself around John. 

I am so sorry, he thought. I deserve to die.

As the knot tightened itself around his neck, he struggled and gasped for air, his face a shade of deep purple. As he attempted to catch his breath, the body slowly, and ever so carefully, raised its head. As John saw May’s face, his vision went dark. 

It was the last face he’d ever see. 

I'm sorry.

The next day, the townsfolk found May’s corpse swaying slightly in the wind and John’s corpse laying on the ground right underneath hers with not a mark upon his body.