These townsfolk were sure of their accusation, not only a witch, she was surely demon possesed.
Where they found their archaic ritual to bind no one would ever know, not that it mattered, torture all the same.
In that moment, on the very edge of death she cursed the world. God did not save her, virtuous as she had been, so it is God’s creation that will suffer.
They lay her in the ground and buried their sin, and soon lived lives that came to violent ends.
The other people of the town knew it must be her doing and in fear of her wrath they dug her up to find a corpse that seemed pristine.
They took her away, south to another territory. Surely from a distance they would be free of her power?
Only one returned, scarred and silent in his story. Quickly they buried the rest, there was no girl accused, there were no witches, never in their town.
With time she would be found, she knew this from the start.
Even if she had to wait three hundred years.
Her anger would shine upon the earth like the sun on a blistering summer day