Challenge Submission Mrs. Nutter

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Challenge Submission Mrs. Nutter

Mikaela Corvid

Dungeon Master
Inner Sanctum Nobility
Local time
Today 2:07 PM
Please note, this is my take on events and from the point of view of "Agnes" or Alice Nutter during the Pendle witch trials. Neil Gaiman is the original author of the fictional version of the story and worked off of the accounts of historians who researched Alice Nutter, The Device family and others who were all put to trial for Maleficence. I do not claim Agnes or Alice Nutter as my own character. I merely state the story from a different perspective and hope you enjoy my twist on things!

The day started out just as any other, but today was different. I would die today. It was inevitable, they had made up their minds and there was no use trying to argue. My call for a lawyer or witnesses fell on deaf ears as so many of my sisters before me. My family was wealthy, owned land in Pendle, so it was not due to any urge to rid the streets of another dirty rat. No. This was more than that. Another man, upset that the House was ruled by a woman, and that they had political troubles with.

So, you see, it was easy enough to mistake my healing herbs and talismans for ill omens and proof of my supposed deal with Himself. I had only good intentions for my fellow townsfolk. Good intentions until now of course. What other emotion was to be had when facing an angry mob? Giddy joy? Bitter sweet sadness? Frustration at the ruin of it all? Nay. I felt peace.

It took them much of the morning and we'll into the evening before they came barging into my home with shackles and irons. I took them gracefully, holding my wrists out for them. I didn't fight.

"Took ye long enough?" I quipped, tsking at the late hour and need for torches. "I should ha' been a flame long ago!"

Of course, who would join a mob against the mistress of the Devil? It appeared many an one. It looked that nearly the whole town had set foot against me. Just as well. It would make for a good show I supposed at the time. Still it would be enough to bring a lesser being low with grief.

I walked slowly, taking my time and made each of my steps purposeful. As I walked, I bid no curse against my fellow man or woman. I walked with my chin high as any noble woman of my age. All with grace. All in time.

That is how I came to face my crowd atop a pyre of wood and tinder, held fast to a large trunk, dug out and set into the ground for just this occasion.

"Tie it well!" I told my butcher, as he bound me to the stake.

What an occasion it was! The turn out was marvelous. Every face I had ever known since birth was there. At least those that were alive to witness. Funny how it should be these witnesses that were allowed to me and not those who would have pleaded my innocence. I thanked God, or Himself depending upon your perceived narrative, that those who were innocent in my trials had done well enough to keep away. Though, I fear it might not have saved them.

"Gather ye close good people, close to the flames and see how the last real witch of England dies. For witch I am, as witch I have been judged. Even though I know not what my true crime was!" I smiled at them all, watching me with curiosity or wonder or hatred deep in their hearts.

"And take note the fate of those who meddle with what they do not understand!"
I looked up at the night sky, "That goes for you as well, you idiotic old fool!"

Then I was gagged for my blasphemy and the fire was set to the wood and tinder at my feet. I know not what came next, as I was no longer awake once the flames began to lick at my dress, but I remember the sound and the first scream.


"Do you really think some witch had blasted all those people to high hell?" Henry asked, looking over the hand-bound book.

"You must have been dropped as a babe! Tis no such thing!" Olivia quipped, setting the book down on the side table as their nanny began to tuck them into bed. The old woman smiled simply at the children.

"I don't know but I heard tell the explosion could be seen the next town over with none but gore and meat to be found amidst the ash and flames! Now ya better pay heed and go to sleep or the Roughlee witch'll take you down to hell with her!!" The nanny lowered her voice to a growl at the end, and the children squealed in their beds.
The old woman smiled again, blowing the candle out, her nose crooked and bent, her teeth yellowed with age. Her hand slipped into her pocket, grasping at an old bent and rusty nail as she left the room to the dark.
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