A tale of time travel, magic and the Mafia

If you haven’t read the first part of the Witch’s story, please read it here: https://www.blankmediagames.com/a-salem-christmas-story/

This land was unlike anything the Witch had seen before, and the clothes the man called “The Don” wore were quite unusual. The Witch couldn’t help but imagine what incredible weapons had been created since her time.

“What year is this!” demanded the Witch.

“1952” replied The Don.

“260 years! Tell me, what is the quickest method of killing in this era?” questioned the Witch.

The Don quickly replied, “That’s easy ya pump ‘em full o’ lead.”

The Witch was not sure what this man was saying, and ordered him to show her. The Don took out his revolver and fired a few rounds into the wall next to them. The Witch jumped at the sound, and The Don pointed to the hole in the wall. The Witch couldn’t help but be awestruck by the power, and accuracy of this new age gun that would easily fit in his hand.

The Witch approached the hole in the wall, and couldn’t help but release a bone chilling cackle. “Bwuhahahahahaha!”

The Don added, “There’s more where that came from, too. Let me take you to The Family.”

They walked into a building with guards smoking outside, who opened the doors for them. “Welcome back, Don.” They said as they bowed their heads in respect. The Witch couldn’t believe the power this man seemed to have over these people, and now he was under her control.

The building was filled with young men in suits, all of whom stopped what they were doing and acknowledged the Don. His power was obvious, but his respect for his followers shocked the Witch. The men weren’t just pawns, they were indeed a family. The Don greeted each of them on his way to his private room.

“Don! Where ya been ya rascal, I was gettin’ worried ‘bout ya!” exclaimed a man the Don referred to as his Consigliere. “Who’s the broad?”

“I am of no concern to you!” she interjected as she threw some of the ash in her pocket at the man. He left the room without a word.

“So who do you want me to whack?” questioned the Don.

“It is not just one person. I need you to–as you say–whack, but a whole town!” A grin spread across the Witch’s face. “A town who took everything from me, and must pay for their crimes against me and my coven.” The Don mulled it over, then called in his best and most loyal men, eight in total. The Witch grabbed some of the ash and threw it in the air.

When everyone opened their eyes they were back in Salem, and the town was still rebuilding from the last attack. It was fortuitous that the town was still in this state. The mafia were able to steal some clothes in the confusion and hide themselves among the townsfolk. None the wiser, the town fell quiet at night. The Mafia went to work.

When the town awoke, Betty Parris was lying in the center of the town, and there seemed to be no evidence leading to anyone. “How could this happen?! Who would have done this?!” the townspeople roared as they mourned the loss. Then one the Mafia stepped forward and accused a townsperson.

The Sheriff checked the accused’s house and there it was, blood near the door, no doubt Betty’s blood. The man denied the charges, and claimed he was being framed! There seemed to be no reason why the man would be framed, and the evidence was against him, so in a hasty trial, the town found him guilty of the murder. After the execution, once again feeling safe, the town slept.

When the sun rose the town found another corpse. With a growing sense of horror, the town began to realize the Witch must be back.

The Sheriff of the town stepped forward. “This wicked Witch would have us fight amongst ourselves, and kill thy own neighbor. This can not stand, and we must unite to destroy her!”

With the town on such high alert, the Don decided they should lay low. The mafia retired to their respective sleeping quarters that night, and when they awoke, they discovered one of their own was now dead. In his pocket they found a vial of blood. The town had no doubt that the Witch had brought some recruits along.

Knowing that the Witch wasn’t alone in her plans, the townsfolk decided to accelerate their search. Despite their best efforts to root out the evildoer, every night ended with someone else dead. Sometimes it was one of the Don’s Family, sometimes a town member. Every time one of the Don’s members was found dead, there was a small clue left that hinted at their specialization. One clue had some suspicious letters written between a townsman and townswoman; another had an unbelievable last will of a prominent member in the town. Yet another had a strange collection of. . . Faces?

The Don’s resources were running low, and the townsfolk were very strong when united. The Witch knew that these men would not be enough to destroy the town. She began to fear that she would never get the vengeance she deserved for her and her beloved Coven. At last, In the dead of night, with the wind whistling through the town, the townspeople located and captured the Witch, and sentenced her to death!

The town members cheered, “Burn the Witch!” “Burn her!” as they tied the Witch and made preparations for her execution.

The Witch couldn’t help but think, “I’m sorry sisters, I couldn’t get the vengeance you deserve.”

When asked what her last words were, the Witch replied “I won’t be the only one to burn! You, and your whole town, will burn in eternity for what you have done!”

The town laughed at the irony of the idea, and tossed their torches at her feet to start the fire. As the flames whipped around the Witch, a sparkling grew and spewed from her pocket, and then everything exploded before her eyes. She closed her eyes to the blinding flash and she began to feel like the end was near, but when she opened her eyes, everything had changed. She was on a hill outside the town, and there were no townsfolk in the square trying to burn her. The stake had disappeared, and the town looked like nothing had ever happened.

“How is the town not in ruins?!” she screeched in anger. “After everything I did, the town looks like nothing happened.”

The Witch felt defeated, angry, and lost. She knew she would not be able to get her revenge without help, but nothing she had tried had worked. She needed more power. She needed . . . a Coven!