Chapter Four

"Every morning, we have a choice. Forget our dreams, or live them." - Cotton Mather

After that kiss, I was certain he would come to me, asking for my hand in marriage, but my greatest wish did not occur. Cotton was stubborn. His vices were keeping him from coming to my door. He didn't want to bring me into his world, not when his bottles of strong drink were his only friends.

Little did he know that getting drunk was the far least of his worries. A witch had fallen in love with him and she wanted him for her own. I was determined to get him, no matter what means I had to use to persuade him.

I found my father's journal as well as a book he had created especially for me. To my surprise, the book was full of dozens of empty pages. According to my father's journal, only my blood could bring forth the magic which was needed for me to see the book's hidden contents.

I took a knife and cut into the flesh of my hand, spilling my blood upon the pages. Suddenly words and illustrations filled the book. It was a book of many spells. My eyes widened as I began to absorb the gravity of the power I now held within my hands. But with the knowledge of the book, there would be a hefty price. My father spoke of it in his journal. That very night, as I lay in my bed, I felt the Darkness as it reached out for me. As my father had warned, the only way I could fully become a witch was to sacrifice my virginity to the Beast. That night... that dark, awful night, my innocence would be violently shattered.

I was awakened from my bed by a scratching sound at the window. Fearfully I stood up, knowing I had no other choice but to investigate. Suddenly, an evil, vile face loomed before me - the face of a demon! I screamed as it reached out for me with its clawed, gnarled hands, pulling me toward it and out of the window. I cried out until my voice was hoarse. As I yelled in protest, it drug me forcibly through the forest and out into the darkness.

There upon the damp and filthy earth, it violated me. As its large, putrid member tore through my virgin's flesh, I screamed out HIS name.

"Cotton!" carried out through the forest, to the roadway where a carriage was rushing passed. It held a single rider.

I did not know of the carriage's existence, nor of the rider within, not till later. I was in far too much pain.

I lay in my bed for days, crying for my lost innocence. I had wanted to give it to Cotton on the night of our wedding.

But I discovered after my brutal violation that he had disappeared to Boston. Why had he left? Had he been running from something? Perhaps his feelings for me?

After days of heavy bleeding and considerable pain, I finally arose from my bed. I was hurting immensely as I walked across the floor to stare at myself in the full-length mirror. Something had changed within me. My eyes were ... different as was my body. I would never be the same again as pure evil had entered me, penetrating me deeply to stain me with its wicked seed.

Would he... could he, love me now? I needed to get to him. I needed to persuade him to marry me immediately. I felt it with a swift sense of urgency as I stared at my nude, ripening body within the mirror.

I'd go to Boston... and I would become Cotton Mather's wife. But first, I must perform a ritual that would ensure his eternal love for me. It would strengthen our bond so that he'd have no other choice but to ask me to become his bride.

Out of the darkness of the secret room came a tiny little mouse. It was such an adorable creature! It befriended me, sitting next to me and curling upon my shoulder like a pet as I looked down at my book of spells, trying to find the perfect one to make Cotton fall madly and deeply in love with me. I talked to the little mouse, naming him Brown Jenkins.

"Mr. Jenkins," I said to the cute little mouse. "You, my dear one, are my only friend. You know, I think I do not like being a witch. I really do not like it at all."

As the mouse snuggled up to me, it scurried into the bodice of my gown. To my shock and surprise, it had latched onto a hidden teat which now protruded from the top of my abdomen. Like a newborn babe does with its mother, it began to suckle. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. I had my witch's mark and I was nursing my familiar. The mark hadn't been there the night that Cotton had examined me, but after having been taken by the Beast, there was no denying it now. I was a witch - whether I liked it or not. Considering I was witch and could do nothing about it, I decided to do what witches do best. I was about to cast my very first spell.