Pendle, england
20th August 1612
The sun is warm and the smell of rain is present, darks clouds can be seen on the horizon. The towns people have gathered for the coming entertainment. The noises they make is of disgust as they examine the six people on the wooden stage all with loose nooses round their necks.
My eyes are sore from crying all night, i want to wipe the last stray tears away but my hands are tied behind my back. I can taste bile with a hint of blood rising up my throat. What actually happened last night?
The rough rope cuts into my flesh. I gaze to the priest climbing the steps to the stand, his arms wrapped tightly round the bible, he looks young, too young to be a servant of god. I feel my body start to tremble the knowledge of what is about to happen to me has dawned. Panic is bubbling up inside me and i strain against the 't be afraid. I hear my grandmothers voice in my head. This was meant to be. I let out a chocked breath, more tears start to fall as the priest enters my peripheral vision and begins to speak as he moves in front of us.
'You have all been found guilty of witchcraft and in consulting with the devil. If you could save your souls from perdition. Repent now and confess your sins.'
Silence. I can hear my heart in my ears, the crows soaring, crowing above how i wish i was one of them, how i wish i was free. Yes i want to be free again
'yes, yes. I confess!''and you made a pact with lucifer?''yes! I made a pact.''well then, your soul will be saved and your body condemned to hell child.'
The crowds roar with excitement. The priest holds his hands up to silence the crowds. He is enjoying this as much as them. He stares into my eyes. I can hear his thought. She is pretty, such a waste he thinks. His eyes wander over my face and neck. He can see the mark of the devil hiding under my collar. I advert his gaze, i don't want him to see.
'hang her'. His says with no humanty, his face eteched with hatred and repulsion. The executioner begins to pull the rope and i feel myself begin to rise. Tears stream down my face, the noose is starting to gather resistance round my neck, my body trembles and i squeeze my eyes tightly shut. The last thing i hear are my grandmothers words echoing around my head, drilling into my mind, ever since i was a child.'Always remember who you are. Where you came from. Never be afraid of what you will become.'
i never knew what it meant, always put it down to old age. But now realisation is dawning.
And before Alizon knew what was happening everything went black.
I never knew who turned me. It shouldn't be possible for a witch to still have her powers once she has turned. Yet here i am, 420 years old and still a witch. My blonde hair tickles my face as i jump off the bus, im not sure why im here but i was sent by my grandmother, Elizabeth Demdike. She was certain that once im here i will know why. Well, stop me if im wrong but what has Mystic Falls got to do with me?
I gaze around the small town, my skin prickles letting me know there are other creatures here. Vampires, witches, werewolf's and hybrids. Though none are vampire witch. I sigh with disapointment and grab my rucksack, well i want to know why im here and then go home.