The cold February wind whips at my tailcoat as I make my way towards my home. The world around me is grey as if God himself is reflecting the emotions that I feel inside. Those women who have been afflicted by Satan must pay, or at least that was once what I thought. Now I am not so sure.
How can a mere man such as I decide who must die, I think to myself. It feels as though we officials have been playing God. My heavy boots clump against the dirt road. I make my way up the path to my small home. Before I enter I remove my boots and set them aside. As soon as I cross the threshold I am greeted by my wife. Her brown, curly hair is pulled back in a bun and her apron is covered in flour. Under her eyes are two bags that I fear I may have caused. I love her dearly, but it easy to see that my work is taking a toll on the both of us.
"Hello Margaret," I say. She gives a soft nod in response and motions for me to follow her to the kitchen. I do so. Waiting for me is a bowl of stew and a loaf of bread.
"What happened today?" She asks me the question that I have been dreading the most. I inhale deeply before I take my seat. I can tell that my meal has been sitting out awhile. There is no steam rising from the bowl. I yet again have missed dinner with my family.
"Where are the children?" I inquire. I do not want them to here of the horrendous things that their father takes part in.
"They are both asleep," She replies before taking a seat beside me. She grabs my hand and I look up at her and notice yet another sign of stress. There a plenty of premature grays in her beautiful hair.
"There was young one. Her Father claimed that she was possessed. 'There was something in my daughter. Every since she went into town on her own she has never been the same' the father claimed. The little girl seemed scared out of her mind and she suddenly started to twitch. She was foaming at the mouth like a wild beast and her eyes . . . went completely white," Margaret's hold on my hand tightens. "It was absolutely horrendous. To cut to the chase. There was no evidence inept enough to free her. We voted that she was guilty. The little girl was drowned. As the executors were tying the rock around her neck she screamed and kicked, but there was no helping her. Then just like that they threw her in."
"Phillip, for the sake of our family. I beseech you to quit doing this." My wife begs me. I let go of her hand and take a bite of bread.
"I think that it is time for you to go to bed. You've been under a lot of stress lately." I do not dare look at her as I say these things. My guilt is already eating away at my conscious. I don't need her to add onto it.
"Phillip-,"she begins but I cut her off.
"GO," I yell. Then in a much softer tone I add. "I will be there shortly." Without another word she turns to resign to our quarters. When she's gone ,I rest my head in my hands.
What am I to do? I think to myself. This is all getting to be a little much. I get up from the table and look for my pipe when I hear a soft knock on my door.
Who could that be at this time of night ? I ponder as I walk towards the door. When I answer, there is no one there. I look down to find a piece of parchment lying on the porch. I bend down and pick it up. I take one last glance around before closing my door and locking it. I make my way over to my rocking chair by the fire and sit down. I put on my reading spectacles and unfold the parchment. There is a letter there,
Hello Phillip,
It would seem that you and I have an ordeal. I would like to ask for a bargain. It's quite simple actually. All I am asking is that you stop the killings and in return I will not murder your family. Don't think too long on it.
Goodbye.
My hands grip the piece of parchment tightly and my body is tense in fear. I have been threatened before of course, but this was different. Whoever this crook is, they know where I live and my name. I shall not tell my wife of this. She is already under enough stress as it is. I put the piece of parchment into the fire and watch it burn. When it has completely vanished, I stand up and head to my bedroom. I am too tired to care for bedclothes so, I simply remove my vest and socks and lay in bed.
When I wake Margaret is still asleep. I quickly change into a clean outfit and go to the kitchen. I grab the rest of my bread from last night. Before I walk out of the house I look towards the fireplace where the ashes of my threatening letter lye and I know what I must do today. I step outside and lace up my boots then I head into town. The walk into town is peaceful. The birds are chirping and the sun is gleaming high. Salem is at it's true beauty as if it is trying to mock me. The place I am usually totally in sync with is portraying the exact opposite of what I am feeling today. I am anxious about what I must do today. I have to risk my reputation in order to save my family. But without this job my family was better off dead anyway. My heart has an iron ball wrapped around it and it is weighing me down.
"Phillip," I hear someone call. I turn to see another official. He is much younger than I am and quite frankly I am not sure how he came to this job. "I am so glad that I bumped into you. Today is gonna be intense. I hear that we've come across an entire cult," I do not look at him as I respond.
"Thomas. I am in no mood for your foolishness today." I warn the young man. He ignores my remark and walks the remainder of the way in silence. Thomas and I take our seats on the council. All is quiet in the courtroom. A group of women are placed before us of the council. Their hands are bound with rope in order to keep them from casting any spells on us. They all have demented smiles on their faces and one of them seems to be looking directly at me. I look away.
"What accusations have been made against these women?" Thomas asks even though it is not his place as the youngest member on the council. The townsman who brought the ladies in takes the chance to speak.
"Not accusations sir. They have admitted to taking are children as sacrifices for their Lord." He explains himself. My heart constricts as I think of my own children being used for such horrendous things.
"Is this true?" I speak to the women in regards to what the man just said. The one who was eyeing me earlier speaks up.
"Of course it is Phillip," She says. The use of my name causes a stir in the crowd and council. Thomas looks at me with wide eyes. I keep my gaze steady as I face the woman.
"Well then I guess there is no point in this trial." I say. As soon as have said it I regret it. My family was surely in grave danger. Unless there was someone on this council who disagrees with what I have spoken. I look around hopefully only to find them all nodding their heads in agreement. My heart is racing quickly now. The women are dragged away to be hung. I do not follow the others as they head to watch. I make my way back towards my home. I run through the crowd pushing through the bystanders. I probably look like a madman as I run, but at this moment I don't really care. I just need to get home. Back to my wife and children. I had to know that they were safe.
What option did I have? Those women admitted to killing to killing those children. Even if I had wanted to there was no way I could have defended them. ,I reason in my thoughts. I pick up the pace as I get closer. I can see the outline of my house now. When I reach it the doors is slightly ajar and I know for a fact that I closed it. I walk through the house looking for my family.
"Margaret!" I yell and there is no response. I keep walking until I feel step in something. I look down and see a pool of blood. "My God." I open the door nearest to the blood and I find both my son and daughter laying next to each other. They are covered in blood. Whoever did this did not hold back. Just at a quick glance I can tell that they have been stabbed multiple times. I turn away and resist the urge to vomit. There was still a chance that Margaret might be okay. A warm tear runs down my cheek as I continue my search. I head to our bedroom and stop dead in my tracks. Hanging right in front of the doorway is Margaret. She is pale and cold. I fall to my knees as it all finally sinks in.
I was too late.
