Deep within Cravenwood Forest, in a mushroom shaped hut with a thatched roof and stone chimney, a woman long in her days stirs 1oz. of chopped spindle weed, 2Tbsp. of crushed bat’s bane, 1 qt. of midnight berry juice, 1 tsp. of ground Harold Tree bark, and 4 satin spider’s webs into a boiling cauldron filled with black water from the devil’s spring. Pinching her nose, Zelda brings a ladle full of the foul-smelling concoction to her mouth. She blows on it to cool it. She tips it back slowly at first, then decides it’s best to get it over with and drinks it down in a single gulp. Her face shrivels, expressing her distaste. The warmth of the potion settles heavily on her stomach and sleep overcomes her. She climbs onto her bed of pine needles, and quickly falls into a deep sleep. Her dreams are vivid. She’s frightened, collecting what she can of her things as an old friend presses her to hurry. She hears the angry voices of men approaching and she flees out the back, running into the forest, running for her life.
When Zelda was younger, she lived in the Village of Delmore on the outskirts of the forest. She was a healer, one who used natural remedies, a practice she learned from the natives of the land. The men of the land became suspicious of witchcraft due to failing crops. Zelda was warned by a friend that the men were searching for her, accusing her of being a witch, meaning to put her to death by fire. Zelda fled into the forest and there she has remained alone for seventy-three years. Zelda is now ninety-six. She’s old. She feels it in her bones and believes her time is short. For the past six months, she has been using all her knowledge to create a youth potion. She hopes to cheat death, reverse time, and rejoin society, hoping to find love and start a family, relive life the way she envisioned it once upon a time.
Zelda wakes. She feels no different. Her muscles ache. Her joints are sore. Her vision is cloudy. Slowly she makes her way to the table where she grabs a knife to look at her reflection in the shiny metal. She turns her head from side to side, inspecting every detail of her face. She is still wrinkled with a bulbous nose and mole above her left eye, her hair is stringy and thin, a dirty gray. Her teeth are yellow with a few missing. She drops the knife and steps outside to go to the well for water. She feels so close to finding that final ingredient. What could be missing? Then it dawns on her, what is missing, what the key element to returning to her youth is, is youth. The crushed bones of a child.
Zelda waits until midnight and under the light of the full moon, digs up the grave of an infant that died in its sleep only a week ago. She gathers the child’s remains and slips away unnoticed back into the forest. When she gets home, she cleans the bones and grinds them into a fine powder. She adds a dash of the spindle weed, a dash of the Harold’s Tree bark, 1 satin spider’s web, a pinch of bat’s bane and just enough midnight berry juice to form a cream. She covers herself with the cream, rubbing it into her scalp and using a stick to get her back. She applies it generously and goes to bed.
When Zelda wakes, she feels energized and the pain in her joints is gone. Her vision isn’t cloudy, and she hears the birds chirping outside for the first time in ages. She sits up and stretches with a yawn. Long wavy, auburn hair falls over her shoulders. She plays with it as she looks over it with glee. She bounces from her bed and grabs the knife from the table. Looking at her reflection, she looks seventy years younger. Her mole is gone, and her teeth are back and pearly white. Her eyes shimmer a bright green, the cloudy film is gone. Her skin is smooth and supple, her lips are full, and her nose is slender. She stands and can touch the ceiling; her back being straight making her several inches taller. Now she needs to figure out how to reintroduce herself into society at Delmore.
Her dress is old and ratty, torn and dirty around the bottom, faded and patched everywhere else. Where she used to step on it as it dragged along the ground, the dress is now at her knees and tight in the chest. She had long ago cast away her shoes, no longer having their soles. Although once again young and beautiful, she did not want to reenter society as a beggar. After much thinking, she came up with a plan. She will find a huntsman and plead for his help, telling him she escaped from savages who abducted her as a child from a village far away. Zelda took off her clothes and left her hut, running into the woods, towards Delmore, screaming frantically.
Zelda ran straight into the arms of a huntsman by the name of John Brantly. “What’s wrong with you woman? Why are you as naked as a savage and scream as you do?”
“Thank the heavens you found me, good sir. I’ve been a prisoner of a savage tribe since my youth. They took me from the Village of Hillsdale long ago. I have only now had the chance to escape. Will you help me.”
“I will take you to the Village of Delmore. There I will see to it you are clothed and fed. Take my coat. You must be freezing, and you should not be exposed to the villagers upon your arrival. Come, follow me,” John says as he puts his coat around Zelda’s shoulders.
“Thank you, good sir. Someday, I will repay your kindness,” Zelda says, as she follows the huntsmen.
“I’m John, dear lady. What is your name.”
Zelda hesitates for a moment. “Mary. That’s what I was once called,” she says, scared to use her real name.
“Well, Marry, you’re going to love Delmore.”
John leads Zelda out of the forest and into the village, right into the town square where the markets are set up. The village is bustling with shoppers and children at play. Men are at work, and women greet each other cordially with gossip. Zelda’s eyes widen and she smiles with delight. It’s just as she remembers it. As John leads her through the crowd, everyone quiets down until they pass. Then they start up with the gossip again, wondering who the girl is that the huntsman has brought home.
John lives in a small house in the middle of town where he sells meat and furs that his sister, Agnus, sews into coats. Agnus lives with John; her husband having passed away after a case of Typhoid. She’s not excited that John has brought home another mouth to feed and hopes to marry her off quickly, although she suspects John wants the pretty young lady for himself. John has Agnus fetch Zelda a bowl of stew and suitable clothing. Zelda is not too crazy about Agnus either. Agnus questions her extensively about the village she claimed to be from and her time with the savages. Zelda creates lie upon lie, hoping she can remember them all.
John takes Zelda into town, introducing her to everyone as they passed through the shops, buying her clothes and accessories along with little nick knacks to make her room feel more like home. They come to the church where John takes Zelda inside to meet Father Billingsley and the elder, a woman of great many years.
“Father Billingsley, I’d like you to meet my guest, Mary…,” John begins, realizing he never caught her surname.
Zelda thinks quickly. “Tisdale. Marry Tisdale,” she says with a curtsy.
The elder approaches Zelda and looks deep into her eyes. Zelda recognizes her immediately. Guinevere Holdman, the old friend who warned her of the men who sought to kill her.
“You have the face of someone I once knew, many, many years ago. Where have you come from child?”
“I was born in Hillsdale but was taken captive by savages when I was seven.”
“Tell me, who was your mother?”
“A woman named Margret-Anne. She died at the hands of the savages.”
The old woman stared at Zelda in disbelief for a moment then turned away. “I hope you find comfort here in Delmore,” she says as she takes a seat in the front pew and continues with her prayers.
Zelda is shaken by the encounter but does not break character.
That night, John invites Zelda to accompany him to the tavern for a few drinks, music, and dancing. Zelda is beside herself with excitement over the invitation and accepts with glee. The two drink and dance the night away, returning home late. Zelda plops down on the bed with stars in her eyes and joy in her heart. She is living life the way she was meant to, and John is such a ruggedly attractive gentleman. She dreams of the possibilities until she drifts off to sleep.
Zelda wakes with stiff joints and achy muscles. Fear runs down her spine. She looks at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t look much older, but she is a little hunched over, her skin isn’t as smooth, and she can see a couple gray hairs. The cream is wearing off. She spends most of the day at home with Agnus, sewing deer pelts into jackets while John is hunting. When John returns, they have a wonderful dinner. John has a way of making her laugh and she has a hard time keeping her hands off him. He doesn’t seem to mind. When they say goodnight, Zelda can see in John’s eye that he favors her, and this excites her. As John and Agnus sleep, Zelda paces the floor, concerned she will wake up looking even older than she did today. She needs more cream.
Zelda sneaks out of the house under the cover of darkness and easily finds the spindle weed, bat’s bane, satin spider’s web, Harold’s Tree Bark, and some midnight berries. She goes to the graveyard but finds that a guard has been stationed there after her robbing. She runs into an alleyway, slides down against the building, and begins to weep. Hearing her, a young boy about ten-years-old, opens his window to see what is wrong. Desperate to remain youthful, Zelda takes a rock and hits the young boy on the head. She pulls him out of the window and takes him to the loft above the stable. There she cleans his bones and makes her cream, enough to last her many nights.
When morning comes, John cannot believe how ravishing Zelda looks. He smiles, happy to have his home graced by such beauty. But his admiration doesn’t last long. There is a commotion outside. The townsfolk are gathering, forming a search party to look for young Amos Covington who went missing in the night. John joins the search party, telling Zelda and Agnus to go to the church to pray.
At dusk, the men return with talk of finding a witch’s lair deep in the woods. There was no sign of the witch or the boy. They burnt down the witch’s lair and will keep searching for the boy. Zelda notices Guinevere staring at her from across the way. She gives her a solemn grin and waves politely, hoping to not look suspicious. Weeks go by without any sign of the boy or the witch. The townspeople feel there is nothing more they can do but offer their condolences to the Covington’s and move on. Meanwhile, John and Zelda become more and more enchanted with each other, going on picnics, attending festivals together, dancing at the tavern, and walking hand and hand after dinner. One afternoon, John walks with Zelda out to where they met. There he gets down on one knee and proposes. She enthusiastically says yes.
A month passes by, and Zelda runs out of cream. Her and John’s wedding is in a week. They want to be married during the fall, before winter comes. She can’t possibly lose her youthful appearance, not now. So, once again, as John and Agnus sleep, Zelda sneaks out of their home and creeps into the home of the Pucket’s, who have a single daughter, Cindy. Cindy wakes with a fright and Zelda quicky covers her mouth to silence her. She scans the room, not sure what to do next. She can’t have the child’s parents discovering her. Her eyes catch sight of the girl’s pillow, and she presses it down on the girls face. Zelda presses her body against Cindy’s to stop her struggling. After a couple minutes the child goes limp. Zelda dumps her out the window and climbs out herself.
The town is in an uproar. Two children in two months have gone missing, taken from their beds. The constable elects men to help keep watch at night. People around town become suspicious of Zelda, saying that everything started around the time she showed up, the grave robbery before, and the missing children after. Zelda is shunned by many in the community, but she still has John’s love. They marry and she is soon with child. Zelda is happier than she has ever been. She can feel life growing within her and now shares a bed with a man she loves. She has made a few friends in the village who stand by her, and she still partakes in many events and festivities. However, she is running low on cream, and this concerns her. Not only are there guards in the streets at night, but families have taken to sleeping in the same room, scared their child might be next.
Desperate, Zelda tries mixing the cream using beaver bones from one of John’s kills, but the results were disappointing. She goes about her days hoping that aging is not too rapid and that no one will notice. During their Christmas celebration at the church, Guinevere pulls her aside and says, “I know who you really are, Zelda. Whatever potion you concocted is wearing off. Or is it you cannot get to any more children to sacrifice to the devil.”
“I don’t know whom you speak of, and I would never sacrifice anything to the devil, much less a child,” Zelda says with a quivering voice. She moves away from the old woman and finds her husband, keeping a hand on her pregnant belly.
Across the room Zelda sees Guinevere talking to Father Billingsley. Guinevere points her way, and Father Billingsley looks directly at her. Father Billingsley moves to talk to a group of men standing nearby who shift their gaze to Zelda. Feeling uneasy, Zelda tells John that she does not feel well and asks if they can leave. A group of men step in front of them at the church doors, preventing them from leaving. They roughly take hold of Zelda. John protests and fights but is outnumbered. Both are dragged to the center of town where a stake is erected, and Zelda is tied to it. Kindling is brought in and thrown at Zelda’s feet as John demand’s an explanation. He laughs at their accusation and tells them to release her, pleading for his wife’s life. More wood is added at the base of the stake and the mayor gains the town’s attention.
“The witch who has been taking our children has been identified. The woman you know as Mary Tisdale Brantly is actually Zelda Coleman, a woman wanted for witchcraft seventy years ago. She has been taking the youth of this village and using them in potions to regain her own youth.”
“That’s preposterous,” John shouts out. “Let my wife go! This is madness!”
“The punishment for witchcraft is death. The punishment for murder is death. May God have mercy on her soul.”
“She’s pregnant! You can’t do this,” John protests.
A man holding a torch throws it onto the kindling and it catches fire. In a matter of moments Zelda is engulfed in flames, screaming in agony as she fades back to her ninety-six-year-old self before breathing her last. John and the townspeople look on in shock and disbelief.
“You can’t cheat death,” says Guinevere.
“Nor God’s will,” says Father Billingsley, as they both turn and walk back to the church.
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5 comments
I very much enjoyed Zelda’s characterisation and her overwhelming drive for youth at any cost. Harrowing visuals, and has symbolic levels that speak of lifespan and the acceptance of age/passing on one’s youthfulness to the next generation. Really enjoyable story, thank you!
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Eek! I loved this story! Making Zelda pregnant is such a wonderful touch. Clever and horrifying in all the right ways. Thanks for sharing!
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Started this lovely fairytale story hoping Zelda wasn't really a witch, just a little old lady. Oh dear! By the time I became horrified I was also hooked! Had to read on to the horrifying conclusion. Such a creepy and enthralling story. Well, done.
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Bewitching tale here with deadly results.
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Ooof! Very creative one, Ty !
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