Season Of The Witches

January, 1706 {Salem, Massachusetts}

It's been 12 years since the witch hunts in Salem had come to an end but the hangings never stopped. Still, everywhere around the world young women were prosecuted for practicing science. The people never ceased their superstitions and anything that went against God was put in the ground.

Sweat dripped down all over Miahs' face as she watched her husband Jack hold their child close to his chest. Father Jones tightened the noose around her neck then walked to the woman standing next to her and did the same. A lump started to form in her throat then. She was going to die. Her daughter was only born the other day and she hadn't named her yet; she was going to die. The fear turned into guilt and the guilt soon turned into anger. Just then a large raven landed on the bar above her head.

"RAVEN!" She screamed in bloody murder. Everybody stopped what they were doing to look at her, eyes wide. "Name our daughter Raven, Jack! Just name her Raven and don't let anyone take her from you!" She cried out, then began to hyperventilate as the first woman to her left dropped. She was next.

Jack looked into Miahs eyes before the floor under her feat dropped. He watched as she struggled for air, her feet twitching, and the life within her eyes...it faded until there was nothing left. Jack turned his back, Raven waddled up in his coat, and walked through the crowd and out onto the dirt path that led back into town.

He struggled to keep his breath despite the knot in his chest that only grew tighter. Everytime he closed his eyes Miahs face appeared. He slammed the front door behind him and laid Raven down on his bed.

"I'm so sorry." He muttered before falling onto his knees to pray for his wife and only daughter. He cleared his throat and held onto Raven's tiny hand.

"Dear lord, hear my prayers. Guide me through these times and show me a way out. Please watch over us and give us safe passage. I cannot fail Miah. Please lord, give me strength."

Suddenly a knock came at his door. He quickly wrapped Raven into one of Miahs shawls and placed her underneath the bed.

"Mr. Everly?" A voice came, then another knock. Jack fixed his hair, wiped his trousers, and opened the door.

"Yes?" It was Father Jones. Jack could feel the blood drain from his face.

"Your daughter." He started. "Where is she?"

Jack quickly fabricated a lie. "No. Her grandmother just came by to pick her up and are now on their way to Quinton." He pinched the bridge between his brows and sighed. He knew a lie like that wouldn't pass with Father Jones.

"Your daughter has been cursed with Miahs gene. God will not love her. I shall have my men go after her to bring her back. Until then you must stay here." Father bowed his head and turned his back, walking down the path that advances through their farm land.

Jack shut the door behind him and let out a heavy sigh and laughed in disbelief. But the realization that he had to flee the town overwhelmed him. Raven started cooing as he took her out from under the bed. He grabbed a basket by the door and put her inside, closing the lid.

"Jack's daughter has been taken to Quinton. Go there and search the entire town for her." Father Jones ordered. The group of men standing around him nodded and left on their horses.

It was dark now. Jack wasn't sure where he was going but he knew he couldn't stay. He took the basket and put a blanket over it so that she wasn't visible.

The bells of the church rang for midnight. That was Jack's cue to run. He ran down the dirt path that lead to the main road. He ran tirelessly until he noticed a man in a carriage. He hid inside the tall grass until the man passed. He continued running until he came to a cross road. There he turned left.

February, 1706

A tall, dark-haired man pinned another to the ground. "Isabelle! Take Vivian and run!" He ordered at his wife who held their child close to her chest. She ran and she didn't look back.

March, 1706

A woman with long red hair sat in her rocking chair, cuddling her new born baby. The flames from the bonfire danced in her eyes, oblivious to the chaos that was about to emerge. A loud bang came from the front door and her husband stood before her drenched from the rain.

"They're coming. They're on their way to fetch Phoenix. We need to go now." They took their belongings and got in their carriage.

April, 1706

"Take her. Please." A young woman pleaded to an older woman as they sat around a fire. She handed the woman her child and the old woman examined the babe, holding it in the air.

"They're going to hang you no matter what, aren't they?" The older woman croaked.

She just laughed. She kissed her child before standing up to say goodbye.

"Her name." The older woman ordered.

"Morgan."

May, 1706

"May God cleanse your soul!" A preacher yelled as he laid down his whip on a young woman. She yelped and started to cry. Her husband stood in one corner of the room, holding their week-old child. She looked back at her husband with pleading eyes. Not for her but for their child. He understood what she wanted him to do. He took his coat and began walking. The walk became a run, the run became a sprint.

He came across a woman on her carriage.

"Ma'am! I need to leave town." He looked up at her with begging eyes. She looked down at the child in his arms and nodded.

"What is the child's name?" The woman asked.

"Saffron." He replied, as he wiped the tears from her cheek.

June, 1706

A young woman ran through the woods clutching her child until she reached a clearing. She gripped the locket that hung around the child's neck. Juniper the necklace read. An elderly woman waited for her with open arms and they shared a bittersweet embrace.

July, 1706

"Get Athena now." A man whispered to his wife. She nodded and ran to their room where she picked her child up from its crib. He lead his wife and child out the back door before a loud banging came from the front door. The man turned to his wife. "Run."

August, 1706

A young blonde woman ran up to a door step holding a basket with a blanket covering it. She set it down, knocked on the door, and ran.

A man opened the door seconds later and looked down. He took the blanket off to reveal an infant wrapped in thick cloth. And a scroll of paper which read: Celeste. 12.8.1706. Take care of her for me. Confusion quickly coiled around him like a cold, wet blanket.

September, 1706

"Ma'am. What happened?" A young man asked when he found a woman holding her child close to her huddling against a rock. He was on an isolated dirt road, desolate plains extending as far as the eye could see.

"They were going to kill me and my baby." She sobbed.

"Come with me." The young man reached out his hand and she took it desperately.

October, 1706

A group of young woman danced in circles in a clearing of the woods. They laughed and chanted gaelic songs. Seconds later a young woman ran into the clearing holding a child in her arms. She approached the group with her child, desperation wrought on her face.

November, 1706

"You take Willow, yeah?" A mother gave her new born daughter to her only son. "You take her far from here, you hear me. And you don't come back." She kissed her sons cheeks and hugged him before she gave her final farewell . He ran down the dirt path and he kept running.

December, 1706

"I had a feeling you'd come for her. But you're not having her." Joseph spoke. He sat at his table with his child in a basket. He turned to the preacher who entered his house seconds earlier without warning.

"You hold the child of Satan and you dare refuse my help? I will not allow your kind to taint this earth with your evil." The preacher began running up to the man with a knife hidden behind his back. Joseph knew what kind of man the preacher was. He skillfully blocked the preacher's attack and turned the knife towards him, burying it deep into the man's chest. He pushed the preacher into his back and grabbed his daughter from the table; and he ran.