It was the season of the witch. It was a lovely autumn day in New England. The sun was setting. This was the time when witches were the most active. The raiding party approached the witch's hut from the west. It was lead by the Wittebane brothers. Witch hunters lived relatively comfortably compared with the rest of society, and enjoyed more freedom. The price being that every time they raided a witch they risked not only their lives but their souls. None were more sought out than the Wittebane brothers. None were more intelligent, ruthless, conniving, or cruel when it came to the task of keeping the commonfolk safe from supernatural deviants.
"I'll eat your souls!" declared the witch as the brothers entered her ramshackle hut. Looked similar to the other witches. A crone. Green skin. A long nose with a boil on it. Matted gray hair, a robe entirely of black. They were either plump or emaciated. This one was of plump stock. "You and the rest of your ugly lot shall be cast down to hell!" yelled Philip back. "Now, now," the older brother castigated the younger brother. "We do not fight witches because they are ugly but because they are outside of God's domain."
The witch hissed, reminding the two of them they had a job to do. From there, spells were cast, Caleb dodged while Philip got it in the leg. "She paralyzed me! You get her!" "You won't harm anybody else!" Caleb yelled as he stabbed the witch. She gave off an agonizing shriek as she disappeared while Caleb seemingly poked air with his knife. This was how witch hunts ended. The witch gets stabbed and disappears. More made of vapor than flesh and blood.
"I'm better now," said Philip. "Oh, thank heavens." They left the hut where the townspeople were waiting. Sometimes they were courageous enough to follow the Wittebane brothers into the mouth of hell but usually they were cowardly and waited outside while the brothers did the dirty work. They tossed their torches on top of the straw-and-pitch roof and burnt the place to the ground.
"Another successful witch-hunt!" Philip shouted victoriously. The brothers liked to walk to the sites of their battles perfectly silently in order to keep themselves sharp for what lie after. On the way back however, they sat in a wagon being pulled by a donkey and allowed themselves a bit of idle chatter. They were expected to attend the post witch-burning celebration which would include many rounds of drinks. That is, for everyone except for the teetotaler Wittebanes. Caleb was the more social one, riling up the townspeople and then celebrating with them in the tavern while Philip would write in his journal and compare this entry with ones past. But today's celebration was to be delayed.
"Damnation! I left my dagger and book of blessings near that witch's dwelling! Continue on, I shant be long!" Caleb hopped off the wagon and trotted at a steady clip to the burning remains of what was once a vile creature. Or so he thought. The hut wasn't there.. Instead, in its place was a beautifully ornate cottage, complete with water-wheel. And no sign of smoke or fire anywhere. Caleb was stunned. He stood in silence for a little while. He thought about calling for help but at this point the townspeople must be out of earshot and even if they weren't he musn't announce his presence.
He tested the door, unlocked, and opened it. It was dark, he couldn't make out all that much, but saw a light in another room. He stood just outside it and peered in. "I hate this form, I'll be so glad to transform back." There was the crone-witch, apparently unharmed. She took a deep breath herself, twirled around once, and... became a woman, or something like that. Much younger, with fiery red hair and attire to match, fat features replaced with a slight yet muscular build, much fairer and younger face. But perhaps the most startling transformation were the ears. He did not pay attention to them before but they appeared human and rounded like ordinary ears. Now they were elongated like the fair folk.
Caleb was so startled he overcame his fear and entered the other room all of a sudden. "What is the meaning of this!" he demanded. "Oh boy." The creature... woman... whatever it was responded. "I am Caleb Wittebane! Witch-hunter deputized by the Sheriff of this town and I demand to know who and/or what you are!" "Hmm. An introduction? You didn't seem that interested in my story when I was ugly! Well, for starters, my name is Evelyn Wittebane. I like spiders, owls, and long walks. Also, I have lots of fun messing with witch-hunters!" She proceeded to transform into every single one of the crones he and Philip had "killed" over the years. "B-but, we rescued children!" "Oh, you mean, Hansel" and transformed into a plump boy or "Gretel" and transformed into a plump girl.