This chapter was actually inspired heavily off of a song by Bootlegg Shaman called "Wiccan Woman." It's really got an enchanted and mystical feel to it that really adds the mood and suspense. Here's the link to youtube:

/watch?v=hCFBdHLGzo0

I think if you listen to it while reading the chapter, it'll really add the full effect and it'll really add more to the experience of the story. Kind of like a soundtrack.

I think I may go back and redo this chapter some, but right now it's 7 in the morning and I just wanted to get this chapter posted, haha. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

The fire crackled, seeming louder then than what it usually was. The house was silent that night. No one had said anything to anyone since the minute Reverend Hale had went out the door. The wind shook the windows of the house, ice beginning to form on the frame of the glass. Nightfall had come.

Constanze laid on her bed, reminiscing about her experience in the forest, and the news her father had given her. She rose and went to her chest of drawers, pulling out a huge book from the bottom. With a candle, she pulled out an old quill pen and an ink well from the drawer as well. She heard the sound of footsteps walking slowly up the stairs. She waited for the creak of a faulty floorboard that laid just before her room to signify that they were entering her room. She heard a knock. "Yes?"

The door opened. It was Gretel. Constanze grinned as she began to write in this enormous book. That woman was always smiling…

"Ahh… the old Shadow Book," said Gretel grinning, admiring how much the book has grown since she were a young girl around Constanze's age.

"Mmm-hmm. I saw three black ravens in the woods today. I noticed the legend was not yet written in here."

"Black ravens?" Gretel asked, her eyes filling with uneasiness. "Oh, child…"

"Do you think it has to do with what is going on in the village?"

"I know not, dear one." Gretel watched as her grand daughter wrote so fluently and neatly on the paper. She rose up. "Maybe you are too hard on mister Hale…"

Constanze closed the book, seeming a little shocked that her grandmother, who was usually almost always on her side, was countering her. "I am only trying to protect us, Granny. They speak of things they have no knowledge of. We do not go to church. That does not make us bad people."

"Going to church does not make them bad people either, my dear. We are all one in the same."

Constanze said nothing. She laid herself on her pillow and stretched, the long run from earlier finally beginning to wind her down. "I just don't want anything to happen…" She closed her eyes.

"You needn't worry about that now… You must get some sleep. Things will be better tomorrow, and your mind will be cleared of any turbulence you have for Mister Hale." Gretel leaned down and kissed her temple. She stroked her hair once before blowing out the candle. "Goodnight, my child."

Constanze lied awake for a moment, contemplating on what Gretel had just told her. She also thought about the reverend, and tried to find room in her heart to forgive him and his suspicion. However, her eyelids were beginning to grow heavier than her thoughts, and eventually drug her in to a much needed sleep.

"Wh-where am I?" It was too dark to see. He shivered, the night air chilling him through his white nightwear. The morning dew dampened his face. He frantically turned, looking every which way for any sign of… anyone. "Please… somebody…" He looked up to the sky, which was blackened from nightfall. There were no stars, no moon.

He was lost. His heart raced as he began to run, knowing not of where he was or why. He could feel the cold wet bristles of the pine trees scrape at his face as he navigated blindly through the tenebrous woods. Running… running… yet running to no destination. He could feel the cold winter's wind whistle through his ears and his hair.

He came to a halt, right in the center of a vast open area with no trees. He looked above. The rays of the pale moonlight shone upon him, giving him somewhat of a notion of where he was, though he did not recognize it. He looked around. He was secluded, surrounded by miles and miles of vast forested wilderness. "Is anyone there? Someone, please!" he called into the darkness. He sighed and wrapped himself in his coat, looking down at his feet and where he stood. He was standing in the middle of a strange circle, a manmade white circle. His heart dropped heavily as he quickly backed away. His eyes, dilated from the pitch black, opened wide.

He recognized this circle. Yes. It was something he had studied in his immense collection of occult books. It was the symbol in which the devil conjured his victims, converting his witch disciples to bid his work; the five-pointed star.

Before he could react any further, he heard the crackling noise of crunching leaves and sticks. He held his breath, adrenalin boiling through his veins. A hooded figure emerged from the darkness, along with three other shorter silhouettes alongside it. "I've been waiting for you, priest," a girl's voice said quietly.

Hale jolted, preparing to flee the sight, however his bones locked into place. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was watch in terror as this devilish woman robbed him of his ability to manipulate. She approached him slowly, bringing him further down on his knees the closer she came. He grunted, trying to break free of her infernal grasp. He prayed silently and frantically to God, who seemed to have had more important things to do. He looked up to her pleadingly from bended knees. "Please… I beg of you… release me, devil woman!"

Her face was shadowed by the light of the moon. The three other smaller figures circled him and growled. Wolves. Three huge wolves. Hale panicked as he desperately tried to break free. "Release me at once!"

The girl chuckled silently. "Dear reverend… tell me, hadn't you ever heard the tale of the little boy who cried wolf?" The wolves growled audibly around him, circling the pentacle widdershins.

"I believe that's irrelevant," he replied chokingly, seeming to know what she was insinuating. He stopped.

"Is it?" She knelt down closer to him, forcing him to lie on the cold wet ground like some kind of repelling energy that worked magnetically. "Tell me how it's not the same."

Hale said nothing. He trembled in his stillness, his eyes darting nervously side to side. He looked at his arms. He was invisibly pinned in the shape to the five-pointed star. He looked back up at her, his hazel eyes petrified with fright. "Dear God… please…" he pleaded out loud.

"Do you know what happens to the little boy, once the village finds out his cries were only pretense?"

Again, Hale said nothing. His body shook and his breathing trembled. Sweat began to pour from his temples.

The girl removed her hood. A mass of waist-length black hair fell atop her shoulders. Hale's eyes widened. Peering out from under her bangs was a set of blue eyes, as pale as the moonlight that shone upon them. They pierced him maliciously. It was the child… It was Constanze.

"Dear child, please hear me! It is not too late!" he shouted to her.

"Soon, the world will know. And soon, there will be nothing left of you. Mark my words, reverend; all those innocent lives you take… it will soon come back to shutter you."

Before he had any time to react, the wolves had already leapt in on him. A blood-curdling scream was heard before his vision turned to black…

Hale jumped from his slumber to an upright position, shivering in a cold sweat. His eyes protruded as he caught his breath. He panted heavily, looking around the bedroom for any sign of conjuring. Nothing. He sighed in relief and fell back into his pillow, putting both hands on his face and rubbing his eyes. His eyes affixed to the ceiling. His limbs felt numb, and he felt as if he could still feel the dew from the cold night on his body. He rubbed his throat, assuring himself it was not mauled in any way. A shiver went down his spine as he remembered the chilling image of the girl, and those cold glass eyes…

He shook it out of mind as he rose from the bed and into the wash room. He splashed cold water on his face. He leaned over the basin and held his head down low, still recovering from the shock from the night terror. He sniffed, noticing his eyes were exceptionally dark and baggy as if he'd not slept at all. He wiped his eyes. His body felt sore, and his mind was still raching. And all he could think about were those haunting eyes… 'Could it be that she had sent her spirit-' Hale closed his eyes, shaking his head to himself in denial. '… No. Impossible. She's but an innocent child…'

He tried to forget the whole incident, for he didn't want to seem troubled and fatigued in front of the Salem court. He made his way downstairs after he dressed appropriately for the court, clearing his mind along the way. He grabbed his hat and pushed his way into the cold weather, where he would soon find himself before the judge who was perhaps much colder…

Yayy! Chapter 4, finally! Please read and review and tell me what you think!