Disclaimer: I don't own the Crucible
A/N: This is a diary of the events of The Crucible, written from Reverend Hale's point of view. I had so much fun with this.
Salem, Massachusetts
Sabbath Day
Day 1
I climb the steps of the Reverend's House, my footsteps echoing hollowly on each stair. From above I hear the muffled sounds of voices, shouting and arguing.
I find this fact pertinent because it has been my experience that conflict, rivalry, and faction within a community are positive signs of the presence of the Devil. And wherever the Devil may be, witchery will surely follow.
I reach the summit of the stairs with some difficulty, owing more to the constriction of excitement in my chest than the ancient and weighty books I carry. I can taste the feeling of anticipation in my mouth, as sweet and new as honey. My breathing is barely controlled, and, as I feel of the coarse covers of my books on my fingers, the warmth in my face, I know that this is sheer excitement. At last, I will be able to do G-d's will in such a way as only I can. I feel a sensation of emptiness behind me, reminding me of the years of study of witchery with which I humbly pride myself. I can almost see before myself the journey I am about to take, the pursuit of fulfilling G-d's word.
I stand before the closed door, breathing in this moment. I can still hear the debate that is going on behind the door, but I wait to enter. I am sure that the Devil has already entered the room, and though I am eager to begin my mission, I pause.
I examine the dark wood of the door, thinking of what I am about to do. The wood is dark, murky colored, just as I know that my experiences here in Salem will be. However, I trust that, with the Almighty at my side, and with His Divine Providence guiding me, I will be able to push aside the dangers as easily as I would open this door. I pray to illuminate the lives of the people of Salem with the L-rd's word. With this whispered prayer in my mouth, I push the old door open. I can feel the wood, which has grown silken with the years, and I pray that my path will be just as smooth.
A silence and the musty smell of the bedroom both greet my entry as I step towards my first humble duty of eradicating the devil in the service of the L-rd.
So… what'd you think?