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The Ozark Massacre

by Zeddicus Zane 3 months ago in Horror
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The day the Children died

The Ozark Massacre
Photo by Rythik on Unsplash

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. You see, this night, this hot summer night, this mid August night, marked the anniversary of the Ozark massacre. This cabin, deep into the Ozark mountains, was home to Mary. Mary was a secluded nature witch that brought healing and kindness to the town of Batesville, Arkansas. Once a month she would come down from the mountains and bring herbs to improve everything from blood circulation, resistance to malaria, and blood clotting for civil war soldiers all the way to reducing tumors.

She was well known, and respected, for her extraordinary healing abilities, on a very hot August day, she came to town to find that she was being hunted but witch hunters. 1860’s Batesville was a very protestant heavy town that was plagued with malaria, small pox, and polio, so the residents were always looking for the devil behind “the plagues”. It just so happened on this day that Mary became the scapegoat. She was approached by these strange new men and questioned for hours. She was finally let go, only to be followed to her home in the mountains.

As the men entered her house, without her permission, they began to search all of her possessions, cabinets, and drawers. The beginning of the end for her came when they found an ancient book in an unknown language. She was instantly labeled a witch and dragged behind horses, all the way back to Batesville. Her dirty, beat up, and barely conscious body was thrown to the ground in front of the courthouse doors. She was tortured for hours, but refused to say a single word, The hunters became irate and charged her with everything the, now defunct, Malleus Maleficarum allowed. The townspeople, the people she had helped for years, unanimously turned their backs on her and demanded she be hanged.

She was dragged, by her hair, to the center of town where she was tied to a high tree limb. She was sat on a horse as the noose was tightened and was given one last chance to repent of her sins and pledge herself to the church. She chose death instead and vowed revenge in this life or the next for their betrayal. Just as the horse’s ass was slapped, lightning came from clear skies and struck that limb, freeing Mary. She managed to free her hands as the horse was running away, and she made her way back to her house, knowing they would follow.

Back in her house she quickly lit a single candle and placed it in the window of her cabin to judge the wind direction. She then drew a pentagram on the wooden floor with limestone chalk, inscribing sigils for the three Baba Yaga sisters, fueling their vengeful desires with her wrath and desperation. The sky turned as black as midnight sin and hurricane force winds sprang from the ground as the townspeople, led by the witch hunters, arrived at her cabin. The Baba Yaga sisters rushed forward from the cabin rushing towards Batesville as the furious witch’s winds inflicted unimaginable pain to the people surrounding her cabin. Their bodies were contorted as their limbs were twisted and bones shattered. Joints were dislocated and bent in the wrong directions. Spines were broken at every vertebrae. Skin was peeled off by fiery winds. Eyes popped as they were cauterized. Their excruciating screams echoed for miles through the mountains as if banshees were feeding on the living.

Meanwhile, the children, the bloodlines of those that were now wailing and begging for death, were being ripped from their beds. The children’s limbs were torn from their conscious bodies and eaten by the Baba Yaga sisters. The children’s skulls were split open while they were still alive, so that the maximum amount of adrenaline was consumed as the sisters ate the children's brains. With the last bloodline now eaten, the sisters returned to the witch and devoured her, ending the vengeance.

The town of Batesville never recovered, and today they still mourn for those that died in the Ozark Massacre and teach of the four lessons learned from that dreadful day.

Lesson one: Under no circumstance, do you ever call out a witch.

Lesson two: Respect all women, no matter how different they are.

Lesson three: All people are afforded a fair trial if they are accused.

Lesson four: If you ever find yourself staring at a single candle in a window of an abandoned cabin, RUN!


About the author

Zeddicus Zane

I am an engineer and reiki master. I write stories and poems across various genres.

IG: @zeddicuszane

Twitter: @ZeddicusZane

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