It was cold, as the winds of the howling north were hitting thru the woods. And She was running, because She knew that if they catch her. She will probably die. She looked over her shoulder and try to remember the spell, but then sound of the shoot, and a bullet gently touch her blushed cheek.

     A thin line of blood ran down and started dripping into the darkness of the night. Willa ran faster. She was not made for running but to fly over the nocturnal skies. She heard the horses galloping behind her and the rage of their horseman with the flaming torches. Bright like fireflies in the night. Then the barking of the hounds, Willa had only one choice. Get into the Joint Point inside the dead Oak.

   "I have to get the Oak, where the Dark Lord Magic can protect me, even those witch hunters cannot get me there, their god had forsaken them, but not my dark lord, not the coven...not Azmaria, no, she will protect me, she will protect us all. We are her sisters, and we all made an oath of protection, an oat signed... with virgin's blood." 

    She thought that. She need to thought that. Was the only reason why their legs keep going, trying to compete and hopping to win aganist a horse. "Hurry up sister" "Hurry up" the echoing voice of Azmaria the leader inside her mind, it was reconfortable and ease the tiredness of her body. "Hurry up sister and don't look back" and that was the last mistake of Willa.

     She turned back her head and saw them, they were at least seven of them. Riding over black horses, black as the charcoal, and they... they were wearing long leather coats with big round hats over their heads. Lanterns posted in banners at back of their mounts. 

    The leader had a cutlass in his hand and he was waving it, the light of the flames of torches and lanterns licked the blade in beautiful and scaring flashes of orange bright. But suddenly, a grunt was heard. And from below the woods, the roots moved all the way into the surface and like sharpen lances stabbed the horses and their men.

    "Im safe" Willa thought and came to the old and dead white oak, she bitted her own hand. And smeared with blood a circle in the trunk of the oak.

    "No!" she heard, meanwhile hole inside the old Oak was getting opened. It closed immediately!  The last of the riders came close, and in the very last moment she only felt the pommel of the sword hitting hard at the back of Willa's head. She lost conscience.

    After a couple of minutes, she felt the tight rope  against her body. On her feet,  the piles of dried grass and wood. And the fire, she saw how the Big Old Dead Oak was on fire. The smoke made the largest columns to the night sky and even the moon got to hide behind the clouds. The leader came at Willa. In his right hand a torch...she knew what was going to happen next.

     "May God have mercy of your soul, or let the flames of hell devour your soul for all eternity" said the leader of the witch hunters. His voice was deep, and strong. manly and old. Then the man threw the torch into the wood and it hatched fire really quickly.

    "AZMARIA! YOU BETRAYED ME; ME, THAT IS HOW YOU REPAY THE LOVE OF YOUR SISTERS, I CURSE YOUR DAMMED SOUL NOT TO HELL BUT TO THE WORST OF SUFFERMENTS MAN CAN GET, THE JUDAS CHAIR WILL BE WAITING FOR YOU AND I WILL BE LAUGHTING AS YOUR EXECUTIONER." 

    Willa screamed, and then not only to curse but only her crying was heard as the flames devoured her limbs,  then her breast and her hair until her face melted in the flames and was over.

A Robb Rommanen original story

A Tale of magic, darkness and destiny

500 years later...

COVEN: A XXI Century Witch Story.