Town of Salem

The Story of Salem

BlankMediaGames has published backstory and lore to Town of Salem over the years. Below are the stories for you to read it for yourself.

The Mysterious Being

A harsh winter has befallen the town covering it in a thin coating of powdery snow. A frigid, chilling wind whips through, carrying on it an eerie green smoke containing a deep sickness. Town members are held up in their homes, lethargic, and on the brink of death. The Witch stands over the town frustrated.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go. This town has taken so much from me, I am supposed to be the one to end it!” shouts the Witch from the mouth of the Coven’s cave.

Helena walks up to the Witch and says “You will get your revenge. We will make sure of that.”

“Thank you Helena.” says the Witch turning to address the Coven. “ Now, do any of you know who the being spreading this disease is, or what kind of sorcery this is?”

Bakt the Necromancer, Nikki the Potion Master, Helena the Hexmaster, Medusa the Gorgon, and Kande the Poisoner looked around. No one knows who or what this being is. They are all a bit uneasy. This being is powerful considering how easily it plunged the whole town into disease.

“If we are going to take this being on we need more power on our side.” says the Witch.

A speck of snow lands on the tip of the Witch’s nose sparking an idea. The Witch rushes into the cave and begins rummaging around. The Coven, “What are you looking for?”

“Perfect!” says the Witch pulling out what looked to be a petrified branch encased in ice. “This is exactly what we need.”

“What is it?” says Medusa.

“It is an ancient relic as old as Earth, and it will give us all the extra help that we need. One of my past Coven members gave it to me as an incentive to join the Coven. I knew it would be useful one day.” grins the Witch. “Gather round and channel your energies with me into the ice. We need to melt it and a normal fire will not do.”

Nikki and Kande work together making a magic enhancing potion for the others to drink, while the Witch, Helena, Bakt, and Medusa channeled magic into the ice. The Witch’s power forces its’ way into the stone, while Helena’s covers the outside of the ice. Bakt’s magic seeps up from the ground and grabs hold of the ice. Medusa’s magic flows from the snake heads around her head in a blinding light. The ice starts to shimmer as the Witch cackles. “Keep focusing your magic into the ice!”

As the ice melts the wind picks up, and clouds form overhead centered directly above them. The snow starts to fall faster, and more concentrated. Around the witches feet they see the snow swirling around them carried off by the wind. Before long the witches are at the center inside of a snowy tornado.

At the edge of their sight the Witch sees a figure walking towards them. The figure parts the snow and reaches for the branch. “Give me that you cretins. You have no idea what you are doing with it!” yells the figure. As the figure snatches the branch he appears before the witches as an old man with pale, blue skin, and snow white hair wearing a robe.

“Do you know what you have done! You have disrupted the natural order!” says the figure.

“We know what this means, but we need your help Jack.” says the Witch calmly.

“Jack? Jack Frost?” questions Helena.

“The Spirit of Winter.” He confirms. “Now, you willingly upset the balance of the seasons? By releasing my relic you have swayed the seasons in favor of Winter and upset the other spirits.” scolds Jack.

“Whatever that means we will deal with it later. We need your help to take care of someone. A being whose powers are unknown to us, and quite powerful.” says the Witch.

“Later? I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. The seasonal spirits almost tore the world apart in ancient times fighting over which one of us would be left to rule. When the world and each of us were on the brink of death we all decided to seal away our relics of power to rule together. Now we each take our time to see our perfect vision of the world.” Explains Jack.

“We can reseal the relic, but first we need your help. As I said there is someone we need your help to defeat. Someone more powerful than anyone I have ever seen before. This being carries a lantern that spewed green smoke down onto Salem causing sickness and disease to spread. I can not allow these people to die by his hands. Those towns members took everything from me, and I will be the one to take everything from them.” assures the Witch.

“Wait, a lantern with green smoke? This can’t be what I think it is.” worries Jack.

“You know who this is? Tell us so that we can defeat it.” says the Witch.

“If this is who I think it is, then this is the work of the Plaguebearer. A being whose only goal is to spread disease to as many people as possible. This Plaguebearer has lived for as long as I can remember, and is rumored to be something even more terrifying.” trembles Jack. “We need to deal with this. Fast. I will help you, and once this is over, you will return my relic to the ice.”

“If you are this worried, then we should go now.” Pressures the Witch.

Jack looks around at the other Coven members, assessing whether this will be enough. He realizes there isn’t any time to waste, and agrees to join the witches as they set out towards the source of the green smoke.

As the group marches through Salem they see people walking around lethargic and coughing. No one reacts to them at all. Throughout Salem every soul is infected. In the distance past the town the group could see smoke pouring out of the forest at the edge of town.

The group approachd the edge of the forest the smoke becomes heavier, thicker, and more toxic. Bakt begins to cough quite violently, and everyone turns to see what is wrong. Her skin is more pale than normal, and she is a bit sluggish.

“Nikki, Kande, what is wrong with her?” asks the Witch.

“The smoke, it is affecting her. We will get this taken care of.” Nikki and Kande work together to create a concoction to help Bakt, and they continue on their way.

The group enters the forest and each member begins to feel the effects of the smoke. Nikki distributes the rest of the concoction to everyone else in the party to help protect them from the effects of the smoke.

Deep in the forest a horse can be heard neighing. The group pushes forward towards the sound of the horse, passed the trees, and end up at a hut. Tied up outside the hut was a pale, sickly looking horse next to a festering trough infested with all manner of insects, and algae. From the hut billows green smoke, and the trees in the area decay before the group’s eyes.

“Are we ready?” asks the Witch.

The group looks around and all nod at each other. Jack summons forth a winter blast of wind that blows the door to the hut off its hinges. Inside next to the chimney sits the Plaguebearer, stoking the fire. The Plaguebearer glances up at the group, and barely paying them any attention turns back to the fire.

The group is puzzled, and the Witch is infuriated by the Plaguebearer’s nonchalant attitude towards having his door blown off its hinges.

“Who do you think you are?” shouts the Witch. “This is my town to destroy, and I will not let you snatch it out from under me, do you hear me?””

The Plaguebearer ignores the group.

“Look at me you toad!” screeches the Witch hurling a spell at the Plaguebearer.

The spell smashes into the Plaguebearer, but it barely causes his jacket to ruffle. The Plaguebearer turns to the Witch and stands, staring at the Witch not saying anything. The Plaguebearer’s gaze pierces through the Witch’s soul like a dagger through the heart.

The Witch takes a step back, uneasy of the Plaguebearer. She looks back at the rest of the group and says, “Don’t just stand there! Get him!”

Jack waves his relic towards the door. The ice and snow around the entrance swirl together into a humanoid shape. Jack sends the ice elemental towards the Plaguebearer while Bakt waves her hands from the ground and hands begin to reach up from the floors. The elemental winds up to punch the Plaguebearer, but just before the punch lands the Plaguebearer reaches into the chest of the elemental and it crumbles apart. The hands reach up from the ground and latch onto the legs of the Plaguebearer holding him still. Nikki reaches into her coat and pulls out a vial throwing it at the Plaguebearer. It shatters upon hitting his shoulder, the liquid is steaming and bubbling. The Plaguebearer doesn’t make a sound, but he grabs his shoulder as if it hurt.

“What is he?” shouts Medusa.

“Just keep attacking!” directs the Witch as she hurls a ball of light towards the Plaguebearer.

The Plaguebearer doesn’t seem to be phased by any of these attacks based on his reactions, but he is bleeding. The Plaguebearer sees the blood, wipes it off with his coat. He picks up his lantern and a flash of green light blinds the group. When they can finally see again the hands that were holding the Plaguebearer have dissipated, and he has Medusa by the throat above the ground.

“Medusa!” shout the Coven

The Plaguebearer’s eyes dart towards the remainder of the group, then back to Medusa. He squeezes on Medusa’s throat. She tries to scream, but can’t even manage a squeak the grip on her throat is so tight.

Jack summons another icy blast of wind that sweeps the Plaguebearer off of his feet, causing him to let go of Medusa. This gives her enough time to slither away back to the group.

As the Plaguebearer gets to his feet the Witch notices something. The smoke that was coming out of his lantern is not as thick as before. She also notices that the effects of the smoke on her body are lessening. They are all very weak at this point. The spells they cast and the effects of the smoke have taken their toll on them, even Jack. The Witch has an idea, but it will be all or nothing.

“Jack, hold him off for us. I have an idea, it might be just enough for us to win this!” says the Witch. “Channel the remainder of your magic into me everyone.”

Jack summons three more ice elementals to help him stall the Plaguebearer. The Plaguebearer slowly steps forward challenging Jack. Jack sends his elementals in and throws a spear of ice towards the Plaguebearer. The Plaguebearer tries to deflect the spear, but it seems as though his movements are slower than normal and the spear grazes his side. As the Plaguebearer looks down to check on his wound, one of the elementals catches the side of his face with a punch. This staggers the Plaguebearer, but as another elemental goes for an attack the Plaguebearer grabs its’ face and pushes it into the wall, shattering it.

During this time the Coven members continue to channel their powers into the Witch. The power can be seen sparking out of her as she begins casting a spell.

“Just a little longer Jack!” encourages the Witch.

The Plaguebearer dispatches another elemental with a swift attack to its’ chest. He stumbles back after the attack, and Jack takes this opportunity to hurl another spear. This one catches the Plaguebearer directly in the leg piercing through it. The last elemental steps forward landing a kick that sends the Plaguebearer flying into the wall. Another green light flashes in the hut. This time Jack is the one in trouble. The Plaguebearer has him pinned to the ground with Jack beaten and bloodied.

“Now is just as good a time as any witches” says Jack looking over to them.

The Plaguebearer glances their way and jumps back, but it is too late. The Witch unleashes a powerful blast of magic that knocks even her back into the wall behind her. When the dust settles there is a gaping hole in the wall where the Plaguebearer was.

The Witch steps up to the hole to try finishing off the Plaguebearer. There is a puddle of blood stained snow where the Plaguebearer landed. , In the distance she can see him fleeing atop his horse. The smoke begins to clear from the forest as he rides off, and the Witch can feel more of her strength returning.

“I think it is over everyone, I think we won.” sighs the Witch with relief.

When the group returns to their cave, the Witch turns to Jack and thanks him for his help. “We couldn’t have done this without you. I know you didn’t want to get involved.”

“The Plaguebearer seems to be injured, and I doubt he will be coming back anytime soon. Just know that I won’t be coming back to help you again. Prepare for his return, and prepare for it to be even harder to get rid of him when he does.” warns Jack Frost.

The Coven grab Jack’s staff and begin to channel what little magic has come back to them into Jack. Jack takes this magic and blows on the staff with his icy breath, encasing it in ice once again as he turns to snow and drifts away on the wind.

The Gathering of the Coven: Chapter 2

A sickly man astride a horse loomed over the town, glaring down at its citizens. He held a smoking green lantern that smelled of death. He dismounted from his horse and began to waft at the smoke from his lantern. The smoke thickened and began pouring out from the lantern, billowing into large pools before rolling down the hill towards the town, undulating like a sea of serpents.

“Go now, drain the life from them. Give me strength,” croaked the sickly man.

Across the valley from the town the witches were entering their cave. They gathered around a map and and began discussing where and when they should go next to find their newest recruit.

“We can recruit Angele de la Barthe from 11th century France,” said Helena.

“No, let us recruit Mother Shipton from 14th century England,” retorted Nikki.

“Quiet, you two!” shouted the Witch. “This is where we must go, and the 12th century is when.” The Witch pointed to an unmarked section of the continent of Africa. “Here we will find a woman whose knowledge of herbs and poisons is so incredible it is unparalleled even to this day.”

The other members of the Coven were skeptical but, trusting their leader, nodded in agreement.

The Witch pulled out a handful of the ashes of her previous coven and threw them into the air. The ashes began to sparkle as their magic was released, opening a portal upon the wide plains of Africa. One by one the witches stepped through the portal into a new time and place.

“Look!” shouted Medusa, pointing through the tall grass that surrounded them towards a small village. “Is this it?”

“Yes,” declared the Witch. Peering across the grass, the witches could see a woman grinding herbs into a paste and then applying the concoction to some of the men of the town. It looked as though she was healing their wounds. “That is her.”

As the woman finished applying the paste to the last of the wounded men, another man charged out of a hut and began screaming and shouting at her. From their distance the witches could not distinguish what was being said, but it was obvious the man was angry. He shoved the woman to the ground and stormed off. The woman stood up, brushed herself off and left to gather more herbs.

After a short time the woman returned and mixed the herbs she had gathered into a cup of water. She handed it to the man who had pushed her down. They seemed to be bonded by their customs, though neither seemed happy. The witches decided to wait for nightfall before approaching.

That night the town held a celebration around a huge bonfire, with dancing, singing, and food, but despite the festivities neither the man nor the woman appeared. After some discussion, the witches agreed to bide their time and try to meet with the woman the next day. They prepared a camp and placed protective runes around the perimeter before settling in to rest.

The next morning they awoke to the sound of blood-curdling screams. The woman was running out of the village, beaten and bloodied, followed closely by an angry mob hurling rocks. One of the rocks clipped the woman’s cheek, opening a gash that bled like a fountain. The woman continued to run, heading directly towards the witches.

“Get down!” the Witch shouted at the approaching woman, then gave a nod to Medusa. Medusa slithered forward.

The woman, startled by the sudden appearance of the witches, quickly threw herself to the ground. Through the tall grass she saw a faint flash of light. As the light faded, she found herself being helped up off the ground by the Witch, who said “We mean you no ill will. We are here to help you”. Frantic, the woman turned towards the mob, only to see that they were frozen in place like stone statues. Taken aback, the woman pulled away from the Witch, and then she saw Medusa. A scream left the woman that would chill a man to the bone.

“Don’t worry,” said the Witch calmly as she put her arm around the woman. “As I said before, we are not here to hurt you. We saved you. What is your name?”

“Wha..who…What is she!” screeched the woman, waggling a finger at Medusa.

“She is a friend. She is the one who stopped the villagers from hurting you. Now, again, what is your name?” asked the Witch.

“Well, uh, it’s Kande,” said the woman cautiously.

“Are you okay?” asked the Witch. The witch looked back over her shoulder. “Get over here, Nikki! Help this poor woman.”

Nikki walked over, opening her coat and pulling out a potion. Kande pulled back, but the Witch insisted that Kande let the potion master help. Giving a reassuring smile, Nikki poured the potion over the wound on Kande’s cheek. It quickly sealed and vanished as though it had never existed. Not even a scar remained.

“Now, why were those villagers chasing you?” the Witch asked Kande.

Kande drew herself up proudly. “I was sick and tired of my husband. He would beat me. He would berate me. He would’ve ruined my life, so I had to do something. I poisoned his drink last night, but before I could sneak out this morning the villagers found his body,” explained Kande.

The Witch beamed. “Such a potent poison! And with only what you could find nearby. You really are extraordinary!” she exclaimed. “How would you like to join us? We will look after you, and make sure that you are never again treated badly. Your knowledge of poisons would be of great benefit to us.”

Kande thought for a moment. “This is not the first time I have been chased out of a village. If you can keep that promise, I will join you,” she said with a smirk.

“It’s settled then,” the Witch said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out more ashes to sprinkle in the air. A portal opened to their cave and they all stepped through.

The Witch immediately began making preparations for her next trip. She instructed Nikki to stay behind and heal the remainder of Kande’s wounds. Kande, meanwhile, was in awe at all of the herbs and roots available to her, and giddy at the thought of what she could concoct. The Witch promised that she would have full access to any and all ingredients once she was feeling better, but that they must go to pick up another recruit.

The Witch opened another portal. Through it, towering pyramids could be seen in a vast desert. “This will be the furthest back we have ever traveled. We will be going back nearly 3000 years,” she marveled.

After stepping through the portal they found a large crowd of people surrounding one of the pyramids. Atop the pyramid a woman chanted, swaying over a table where a man lay, his chest cut open. The woman reached into the man’s chest and pulled out his heart, still beating, and held it aloft while the crowd cheered. The witches were too far away to hear what was being said, but the Witch knew that this woman was their next recruit.

The witches began to walk towards the pyramid, staying to the shadows to avoid being seen as the crowd dispersed. They arrived at the pyramid just as the woman began walking back to her home. The Witches followed quietly.

The witches waited outside as the woman relaxed. A young boy came in with a tray of food and began to feed the woman as she lay on her bed of silks. The Witch entered the home and stepped out from the shadows. The woman, upon seeing the witch, panicked and quickly summoned several ghouls to defend herself. The ghouls lumbered towards the Witch, but with a wave of her hand the Witch dispersed them and they vanished.

“You are strong, but not strong enough to take me on,” chuckled the Witch.

“Who do you think you are?” shouted the woman.

The Witch spread her arms. “I am the one who will take you from this hole and help you realize your full potential.”

The woman looked insulted. “Hole? You look like a peasant in your tattered robes, while I am wearing gems and gold!” huffed the woman, motioning to the Witch’s clothes.

The Witch raised an eyebrow. “But are you happy? Do you feel complete? Do you feel powerful?” the Witch asked. “I can bring you to a world where your bloodlust will not be seen as something to control. I can show you a world where your powers will bring endless terror to a people who can be disposed of at the drop of a hat.”

Intrigued in spite of herself, the woman stepped closer. “And where might this place be? How do you intend to even get out of here alive?” asked the woman.

“It is not so much a where, but a when. Come, join my Coven of witches, and we can give you anything you desire,” the Witch said enticingly.

The woman pondered this. Her eyes reflected her inner turmoil as she considered whether it would be worth giving up her life of riches to be able to truly quench her thirst for blood. She lived the life of a princess, but could convince the pharaohs to sacrifice only so many people to the gods. Not enough, not enough.

The woman reached a decision. “When? Unrestricted use of my powers? This is very intriguing. My name is Bakt Naunet,” she declared. “I am the Necromancer!”

The Witch threw a handful of ashes into the air, opening a portal home. “Welcome, Bakt, to my Coven,” said the Witch.

Upon walking through the portal the Witch saw Nikki and Kande at the mouth of the cave, peering across the valley. She joined them and through the distance saw a masked man holding a green lantern with smoke streaming out. Green billowing clouds descended upon the town. The town members seemed to be falling ill, coughing and sneezing as they stumbled around lethargically.

Turning to the other witches, the Witch cried, “Who is that man? Is he a demon? What is he doing to the Townsfolk? They are mine to kill! Mine!” she screamed.

More

The siege on the North Pole took its toll on the Witch and Helena. They knew they could not take the Town down with just the two of them. A true Coven was the only way they would have enough power to destroy the Town and get vengeance for the Witch’s sisters. Where would these new members come from, or rather, when was the real question as the Witch reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the magical ashes of her fallen sisters, then sprinkled them in the air.

A portal opened and the Witch said to Helena, “We may have failed last time, but this time will be different. We will create the greatest Coven to ever exist, in any time, throughout time.” as they both stepped through the portal, spawned by the glittering ashes.

They stepped through the portal upon a land many years ago, stone columns towered over the witches, and they stood atop an island. Instantly the witches could feel a powerful magic hanging over the land.

“Can you feel that Helena?” smirked the Witch.

“Yes, I haven’t felt a power like this in a long time. This isn’t ordinary magic. There is a powerful curse at work here, so powerful I question whether we should move forward.” said Helena.

“Don’t back out on me now Helena, you owe me, and the power here is exactly what we are looking for.” pushed the Witch.

Smash! Clang!

In the distance the witches heard the sounds of battle. Hoping to see this magical power in action the witches rushed over to the sounds.

“Who are you?! What are you doing here?! Leave now!” a woman’s voice shouted.

“I am Perseus, and I have come for your head!” yelled a man.

“Ahhh!” The woman’s voice let out a shriek of pain as the witches came over a hill and their eyes beheld the sight in front of them.

The woman had a giant snake tail instead of legs, and her hair was made of countless snakes, two of which were flailing about spewing blood where the cut off snake’s heads had been. There were many deep cuts across her body spotting her in the deep crimson color of blood.

The snake haired woman swung her head to Perseus and her eyes sent out of a flash of light. Perseus shielded his eyes. The Witch and Helena had heard of this kind of power, and this kind of being, a Gorgon. She did not use magic herself, but she was cursed. The Witch and Helena knew that a curse like this would be a powerful asset to them, and it did not seem like she would be winning this fight on her own.

They jumped into action. The Gorgon seemed stunned that someone would help her, and when she saw that they used magic it enraged her.

“What do you think you are doing! Leave my home, or I will kill you all!” screamed the Gorgon.

The Witch declared “We are here to help you. Let us take care of him while you tend to your wounds.”

Helena began to cast spells at Perseus, while the Witch channeled her powers. Perseus raised his reflective shield and the magic began to deflect off. One of the stray spells clipped the Witch in the arm and she fell to the ground.

“Are you OK?!” shouted Helena.

“Yes, just keep him occupied, and don’t hit me again!” scolded the Witch.

Perseus shouts as he swung his sword at Helena “What do you witches want, leave me and Medusa be or I will strike you both down along with this beast!” Helena ducked, but Perseus smashed his shield into her flinging her backwards into a cliff. “Any last words?” chuckled Perseus. He began to stab towards Helena when he froze in place.

“Rest in Peace.” Said Helena with a smile as Perseus pushed his sword through his own skull. His lifeless corpse fell to the ground while magic energies flickered off his body. Helena looked to the Witch. “Any longer and I would have died.”

“Who are you witches?!” shouted Medusa.

“Is that any way to talk to the people who just saved your life, you ingrate!” scowled the Witch.

“I could kill you both right now! Don’t you spe-”

“If you kill us you will never get your true form back.” Interrupted the Witch calmly. “I know what you are, and I know what was done to you. This curse is powerful, but can be lifted with the right amount of magic… We do require your help with another matter, in exchange.”

Medusa was taken aback. A god’s power turned her into what she was, could mortal magic reverse it? She thought it over, and realized nothing she had done so far worked. “My name is Medusa, how can I help?”

The Witch cracked a smile while throwing more ashes from her pocket into the air as a portal opened. “Come with us,” said the Witch mischievously as they walked through the portal into an alleyway.

A bustling city was visible from the alleyway where the Witch, Helena and Medusa, the newest addition to their Coven stood.

“Is that the house?” asked Helena.

“Yes, it is.” Said the Witch as they started across the street to the house of Nicolas Flamel. The famed alchemist.

Medusa could not follow them into the house as her figure would give the stone fright of death to any who witnessed it. The Witch and Helena walked up to the door and knocked. Perenelle Flamel, Nicolas’ wife answers. “Yes, how may I help you?”

The two witches pushed past Perenelle and ask her where Nicolas is. Perenelle told them that he was out and wouldn’t be back for some time, but they knew she was lying. The portal opened up just outside the house. It drew them there for a reason. “Don’t make us ask you again.” said the Witch as magical energy began to surround her hands.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass. Crack. The Witch’s hands began to smoke and burn as she let out a scream of pain. “Nicolas, you wretch!” The witch spun around to see a woman, no older than twenty standing at the bottom of the staircase.

“Don’t you touch my mother!” Another vial was in her hands, and tears were forming in her eyes.

“Where did you learn to make potions like this?!” yelled the Witch angrily.

“From my father.” said the girl defiantly.

“Where is he? We need to have a word with him.” said the Witch

“He was taken from us years ago now. Nikki has taken on his work and used his name to publish her findings.” said Perenelle.

The Witch wondered why she was brought here if Nicolas Flamel was taken. “Ack.” She looked down at her badly burned hands, when it hit her. She wasn’t brought there to recruit Nicolas Flamel, she was brought there to recruit his daughter. “What if I told you that we could help you find your father?”

“Really!” said Nikki.

“We need your help first though.” said the Witch.

The girl looked at her mother, and then nodded at the Witch. “My name is Nikki Flamel, how can I help?”

The Witch and her growing coven continued to travel through time, recruiting powerful beings throughout time for her mission.

There was a rumbling deep in the bowels of the world. “Meddling with time, what a monstrous magical mistake. I must put an end to this.” whispered a voice in the darkness. “I must bide my time, and regain my powers if I am going to eradicate this disease on the world.” spoke a sickly man sitting atop a white horse.

More

After the debacle with Beelzebub and Uriel in Salem, the Witch needed to rest and recharge with Helena. The witches retreated back to the north pole where they still had a number of zombie elves from 5 years ago. The North Pole made a perfect base of operations to regroup and recharge off of the elves natural magic.

“Welcome back,” said Robot Santa. He had been repaired from the siege on Salem five years ago, and was now the leader of the North Pole.

“Hello Santa, how have operations been going? We need to draw on the elves power. Our latest attempts to destroy Salem have gone awry and we are drained of magic,” said the Witch in a defeated voice.

“The elves magic is running low, but there should be enough for you both to get back to full strength,” replied Robot Santa.

“Why is the elves magic so low!?” exclaimed Helena.

“Well, we are still looking for Santa, and the zombie elves can no longer recharge their own magic,” responded Robot Santa.

The real Santa had been badly maimed in the original assault on the North Pole, but he escaped when the Witches attacked Salem. Santa had taken shelter somewhere on the North Pole and was proving rather difficult to pin down for Robot Santa and the Zombie Elves. Over the previous couple of years the real Santa had sabotaged several operations that Robot Santa was running, including an assault on Workshop 7 two years ago. Santa appeared when the Zombie Elves were trying to take control of the last remaining workshop, and managed to kill fifteen of the thirty elves that were sent to take control of the workshop.

“The real Santa is starting to become a massive thorn in our sides. Deal with this Santa, or I will turn you into a bucket of bolts!” shouted the Witch.

Little did the Witch know that Santa had actually saved one elf in the assualt two years ago. Santa knew he had to kill the Zombie Elves, since he couldn’t bring them back. He watched as all of the regular Elves died at Workshop 7 right before his eyes. It lit a fire inside him and he swore that he would not let any other elves die. Santa and Santa’s Little Helper had a plan to reclaim their home from all these monstrous creatures that had claimed the North Pole as their own.

“Are you ready?” asked Santa’s Little Helper.

Santa assessed the situation. “I think we just might be. The Witches are back, but they seem weak. This may be our only time to strike. The elves’ magic stores are running low from looking for us, and it will take some time for the Witches to reach full strength again,” said Santa.

Santa had spent the last five years training to reclaim his home and doing everything he could to stop the operations of Robot Santa and the Witches. One could barely even recognize Santa anymore. He had changed from the happy-go-lucky fat man everyone adored to a war-torn warrior with a massive sharpened candy cane where his arm used to be. Robot Santa and his Zombie Elves had made an avalanche fall on Santa last year and his arm had gotten stuck in a crevice. Due to the extreme cold, Santa had to choose between cutting off his own arm or keeping it and freezing to death. He had gritted his teeth, took out his pocket knife and began cutting. Afterwards, he located a candy cane that was the right size and had Santa’s Little Helper sharpen it as a weaponized replacement arm. Santa would never be the same again, but if he could stop Robot Santa and the witches it would all be worth it.The Elves set out on patrols every hour on the hour like clockwork. There were always at least fifty elves remaining at Workshop 13 where it had all started five years ago. Santa and his little helper could manage to take out all of these Elves. The real problem was dealing with the Witches and Robot Santa. The Witches may not be at full power, but they still controlled very powerful magic.

BAM!

A loud explosion was heard and the Witch whipped around and screamed, “What the hell was that!?”

Sirens began to go off and smoke filled Workshop 13.

Robot Santa shouted to the Zombie Elves, “Go investigate!”

When the first Elf got there he was met with sweet death. Santa impaled him with his sharpened candy cane arm, removing his head, smashing it and flinging him to the side.

“What do you think you are doing? You think that you can take us all on by yourself?! Fool!” cackled the Witch.

“Of course, I’m Santa. Why don’t you try to prove me wrong!” proclaimed Santa.

The Witch was taken aback by Santa’s courage, but had to admire him. The Witch laughed at his audacity as she shouted, “Get him Elves!”

The Elves began to swarm towards Santa and he started slashing away at the Army of Elves. Blood and body parts flew every which way as the Witch’s Army of Elves began to dwindle.

“GET HIM ROBOT SANTA!!!”

Just as Robot Santa was getting ready to charge in, a loud crash of glass and the sound of a gunshot rang throughout the warehouse.

Helena exclaimed, “Who is firing at us?!”

Robot Santa fell to the ground with a hole the size of a small soccer ball through his chest. Oil leaked from the hole and sparks flew from the wound. “Systems critical, malfunct…” Robot Santa’s red light dimmed and the light in his eyes vanished.

Helena looked up to see an Elf with a small cannon furiously trying to reload behind a shattered window. “He has an Elf! I thought we had taken control of all of the Elves?” In shock and unsure what had just happened, the Witch stammered, “An EEE..lf? She de.de..de..stroyed our rob..b..b..ot. Where did you come from?” The Witch cast a spell to pull Santa’s Little Helper from the window and as she hit the ground her arm broke causing her gun to slide away from her.

Santa roared from across the workshop. With bodies strewn out before him, blood dripping from his sharpened candy cane arm, he bellowed, “Don’t hurt her, you animals!”

The Witch picked the small elf up and twisted her broken arm behind her as she screamed in pain. “Oh, you poor thing, it looks like Santa’s going to let you down, again. First he lets the North Pole be taken over, and now he is going to let you die.”

Santa’s Little Helper’s eyes swelled up with tears as she whispered, “This isn’t over…”

“Oh, how cute, you think you still have a chance. We may not be at full power, but Helena and I have more than enough magic to defeat you two gnats. To think you thought you cou-”

Just then a hand grabbed the Witch by the throat and flung her across the warehouse. Digging herself from the rubble, the Witch looked at Helena whose stood mouth agape, then she saw the culprit. Robot Santa was helping the small elf back up off the ground.

“Robot Santa what are you doing, have you lost your mind? Why are you helping them!”

“System rebooted, all sy-systems func-tioning at sub-optimal levels,” stammered Robot Santa. “Are you okay, Santa?” The oil leak had stopped, and the sparking was less frequent.

“It worked Santa! Robot Santa rebooted! He is back on our side. You were right! If we hit him hard enough he would turn on the Witches!” exclaimed Santa’s Little Helper.

“Robot Santa, get the Witches now, while they are separated!” shouted Santa

Robot Santa swung at Helena, but she dodged it and began to make her way over to the Witch. Santa was still preoccupied with the Zombie Elves, but was advancing towards his comrades.

The Witch and Helena were able to regroup and began to cast a spell, but Robot Santa charged at them, interrupting their spell. The unstable magic from the spell exploded and blasted the Witch and Helena outside the workshop. Beaten and bloodied, the two Witches knew that without Robot Santa, and with their powers so drained, they wouldn’t stand a chance. They quickly devised an escape plan.

The Witches ran towards Workshop 9, where Santa’s sleigh and reindeer were kept. When Santa and Santa’s Little Helper arrived they were greeted by Blitzen, but he too was now a zombie. Missing an antler and with skin peeling, the reindeer began to limp towards them. Robot Santa lunged forward to intercept Blitzen, but when he struck Blitzen the reindeer exploded, breaking a column and causing part of the workshop to collapse. When the dust cleared Robot Santa was crushed underneath the sleigh. There would be no coming back from the damage this time. Santa looked through the cloud of dust and saw the two Witches sprinting from the wreckage. Santa’s Little Helper began to chase them, but Santa stopped her. He grabbed a piece of metal from Robot Santa and threw it before them. The metal began to melt when it touched the ground.

“It looks like the witches set up some traps in case we chased them. They will be back, but in the meantime the North Pole is ours again.”

More

It has been nearly 5 years since the Witch’s last attempt at destroying Salem. A lot has happened in this time. The town has continued on with their happy lives, and the actions of the Witch were undone, but the anger the Witch harbors has driven her to find allies.

The Witch’s desire to see the town in ruins before her, and the people in it to have their lives and families destroyed, just as they had done to hers, was so great that she would do anything to see this desire come to life.

The Witch’s first addition to her coven is Helena the Hex Master. The Witch found Helena facing persecution in a nearby town just weeks after her last attempt to destroy Salem failed. Now it was time to finally exact the revenge she so desperately desired.

“All Hallow’s Eve, that is the day” proclaimed Helena.

“Brilliant, our magic will be the strongest it will be all year!” cackled the Witch.

“Will it be enough though? This spell is dangerous, and will require immense amounts of mystical energy for it to even work.” cautioned Helena.

“It has to work! We will make it work. I will not let this town stand after what they have done to me!” shouted the Witch.

The month of October is a powerful month, and the night of all hallow’s eve is one of the most powerful days of the year. It is a day of goblins and ghouls, and of magic and witchcraft. The witches’ would use this power to cast a spell that would level Salem, leaving the town and its inhabitants decimated. The spell they wished to cast would require so much power that it needed to be cast from the right place, at the right time, with all of their mystical powers.

This spell would open a portal raining hellfire down onto the town, but first the preparations needed to be made. Helena gathered the supplies while the Witch went to look for a place to cast the spell. This place needed to have an intersection of ley lines that the two could harness and use to power their spell.

The Witch knew of one area where 3 different ley lines converged, and she knew this spot would be powerful enough to cast this spell, so she traveled to the location.

Once the witch arrived she could feel the mystical energies surrounding her body, and she felt empowered. Not only would this spot be perfect, but it was located just about the town on a small cliffside. She could watch as fire rained down onto the unsuspecting town, and witness the destruction of those who took everything from her. She would finally get the revenge she had been searching for all this time, and she could put finally come to terms with the loss of her old coven to these villainous monsters who believed themselves to be right when they slayed her friends.

When the Witch came back Helena had gathered all the supplies and it was only 3 days until All Hallow’s Eve.

The witches traveled to the location with their supplies, and loomed over the town like a grey cloud on that hill until the day had finally come.

It was All Hallow’s Eve and the town knew that today was a powerful, mystical, and evil day. Most of the citizens spent their times inside, while those who didn’t quickly rushed to get what they needed to get done complete. It was a cool and windy day, with dark clouds blowing through the town. The time had come.

Helena laid out the materials needed to cast the spell, and grabbed the Witch’s hands. They began to chant together “Hoc ostium apertum, et novissimum oris illius. Ut sint oculi tui aperti, et ignem pluit.” As they chanted the earth around them seemed to split and blue streams of energy flowed around them. Looking around the witches noticed a collection of magical creatures coming, attracted to the power, or to the rift? It didn’t matter to the Witch. She invited the mummies, werewolves, vampires, ghosts and anyone else to witness her power, and her revenge on Salem. The materials they brought turned as red as fire, and started to swirl in a circle. The circled placed itself just above the town and then a rift opened letting loose a hail of fire onto the town.

The town members looked to the sky and saw flames reaching towards the town from the portal and they flew into a panic. Everyone scattered running between burning buildings, and balls of fire in the streets.

“DIE! DIE! DIE!” cackled the Witch as her revenge was unfolding onto Salem. “You will get what you deserve, none of you will survive!”

Helena noticed that the blue energies around them transitioned to a burning red, and she saw something at the rift. A hand.

“Look!” shrieked the members of the town, as the other hand gripped the other side of the rift, and tore it open.

The spell was doing more than it ever should have. It was only supposed to bring a hail of fire and flames onto the town, but now a demon was coming through to decimate Salem. The Witch cackled, but in the midst of everything a fireball came hurdling towards Helena and the Witch. The energies around them dissipated, and the rift seemed to fluctuate.

“What is the meaning of this!” screamed the Witch, as she whipped her head towards the direction of the fireball.

The demon was starting directly at them. Its flaming sword pointed directly at them which seemed to hurl the fire. He cracked a smile, and threw another fireball.

“No! No! No! We summoned you, we control you. You will not ruin my revenge!” Shouted the Witch at the demon.

The demon with horns and tusks as bright as the flames he threw, and with scales as dark as the ashes they created looked at the Witch and calmly said “My name is Beelzebub, and no one controls me, just as no one controls fire. Though they may try they are likely to get burned.” Throwing another fireball.

The Witch jumped out of the way, but the blast of the fireball sent her flying from the cliff, luckily a nearby house broke her fall. Helena wasn’t so lucky though, the fireball had sent Helena flying off the cliff, and she was unresponsive.

As the Witch watched she began to fear for her own safety, and for the safety of Helena. She would not let this demon Beelzebub kill her or her friend. She knew they needed to stop it, even if it meant her revenge would be ended for the time being. Just at that moment the Sheriff turned the corner and found the two witches, but as he drew his gun the Witch asked him to stop.

“I know I started this, but please, don’t kill us. If you plan on living you must know that we are the only ones that can stop this.” pleaded the Witch as Helena began to come to.

The Sheriff looked at them both, and holstered his gun.

“This doesn’t mean that we are friends. What do you propose we do?”

“Well, we opened a gateway to hell that brought forth a demon, maybe we can open a gateway to heaven to bring down an angel to destroy it.” said the Witch. “The only problem is that Helena and I are too weak to do it alone.”

“How will we be able to do this then?” asked the Sheriff.

“As much as I hate to say it, we need all of you. Every being on Earth has trace amounts of magical energies, and if we all come together at the intersection of the ley lines, we may just have enough power to do this.” said the Witch.

“I guess we better start rounding people up then.” said the Sheriff.

The Witch and the Sheriff rounded up every member of the town that was still alive, and headed for the cliffside while Beelzebub stomped, slashed, and burned the town down. Avoiding Beelzebub’s field of vision, and the fire all around they moved towards the cliff, and sprinted towards the top.

Once there the Witch told them all the join hands. There were no supplies left to cast a spell, but the Witch hoped that the rift could be opened to another place. She pleaded with the town to chant with her to save Helena, and Salem.

“Hoc ostium apertum, et salvi erimus. Ut sint oculi tui aperti, et lucem prodiit” She began to chant as the town joined in.

The cracks in the earth that had glowed red with energies but had dissipated came back. The energies went from as red as the flames to as blue as water again. The portal began to shake and tremble.

The demon looked at them and shouted “No! Witch, you will regret this!” as he threw a fireball that would surely destroy everyone.

Just as the fireball was about to hit them a flash of light blinded them all, then a burst of fire in front of them. They were looking at the back of something beautiful. They saw golden armor, with huge white wings extending out from it and a hood. The Angel turned to them and said “Worry not, I am here, and no more will die this day.” The hooded Angel had blocked the fireball from killing them all.

The town asked the Angel for her name, and the Angel replied “Uriel is my name, and I will protect you.”

Uriel flew directly at Beelzebub deflecting fireballs as they came. Beelzebub saw that this wasn’t working, and instead threw a flaming cart at Uriel. Uriel was staggered from the impact, and when she looked back Beelzebub was missing. Uriel looked up and saw a fireball just in time for it to slam into her sending her into a house ablaze. She stumbled out of the wreckage as Beelzebub laughed “Silly angel, you think that you can defeat me?”

“It isn’t a matter of defeating you, but of keeping the innocent safe,” declared Uriel “so prepare yourself.”

Uriel charged at Beelzebub throwing some burning debris she picked up along the way. Beelzebub slashed each piece and half, and met swords with Uriel. The battle wage on as the town members and the witches watched in awe.

Both landed deep slashes into one another. Beaten and bloodied Uriel and Beelzebub glared at each other. This would be the final strike of the fight. They charged each starting deep into the others eyes. Slash. As they floating about the town exhausted, and beaten Uriel seems to have lost her sword. Beelzebub turned around laughing at Uriel “You really are quite amazing aren’t you?” Uriel’s sword was sticking out of his head, and he collapsed.

The town rejoiced! This apocalypse had ended, and they could go back to their lives in Salem in peace, but what of the witches who had caused this. The town looked around to see that both witches had vanished. The Sheriff began to gather a mob to go out and find these two who had tried to ruin their lives, and destroy Salem, but the Mayor interjected “They may have caused this, but without them, we would all be dead. Let us leave them for now, but prepare for their return.” The Sheriff agreed.

The witches stumbled back into their hovel and looked at each other and said “We need more witches.”

Santa Fights Back!

The real Santa had been badly maimed in the original assault on the North Pole. He escaped when the Witches attacked Salem. Santa had taken shelter somewhere on the North Pole and was proving rather difficult to pin down for Robot Santa and the zombie elves. After the debacle with Beelzebub and Uriel in Salem, the Witch needed to rest and recharge with Helena. The witches retreated back to the north pole where they still had a number of zombie elves from 5 years ago. The North Pole made a perfect base of operations to regroup and recharge off of the elves natural magic.

“Welcome back,” Said Robot Santa. He had been repaired from the siege on Salem 5 years ago, and was now the leader of the North Pole.

“Hello Santa, how have operations been going? We need to draw on the elves power, our latest attempts to destroy Salem have gone awry and we are drained of magic.” asked the Witch, defeated.

“The elves magic is running low, but there should be enough for you both to get back to full strength.” Replied Robot Santa.

“Why is the elves magic so low!?” Exclaimed Helena.

“Well, we are still looking for Santa, and the zombie elves can no longer recharge their own magic.” Responded Robot Santa.

“The real Santa is starting to become a massive thorn in our sides. Deal with this Santa, or I will turn you into a bucket of bolts!” Shouted the Witch.

Little did the Witch know that Santa had actually saved 1 elf in the assault 2 years ago. Santa knew he had to kill the Zombie Elves, since he couldn’t bring them back. He watched as all of the regular Elves died at Workshop 7 right before his eyes. It lit a fire inside him and he swore that he would not let any other elves die. Santa’s Little Helper and Santa had a plan to reclaim their home from all these monstrous creatures that tried to claim the North Pole as their own home.

“Are you ready?” Asked Santa’s Little Helper.

“I think we just might be, the Witches are back, but they seem weak. This may be our only time to strike. The elves magic stores are running low from looking for us, and it will take some time for the Witches to reach full strength again.” Said Santa as he assessed the situation.

Santa had spent the last 5 years training to reclaim his home, and doing everything he could to stop the operations of Robot Santa and the Witches. One could barely even recognize Santa anymore. He had turned from the happy go lucky fat man everyone adored to a war-torn warrior with a sharpened candy cane where his arm used to be. Robot Santa and his Zombie Elves made an avalanche fall on Santa last year and his arm got stuck in a crevice. Due to the extreme cold, Santa had to cut off his arm or keep it and freeze to death. He gritted his teeth, took out his pocket knife and began to cut. The candy cane was the right size, so he had Santa’s Little Helper attach and sharpen it as a replacement arm and weapon. Santa would never be the same again, but if he could stop Robot Santa and the witches it would all be worth it.

The Elves set out on patrols every hour on the hour like clockwork. There were always at least 50 elves remaining at Workshop 13, where it all started 5 years ago. Santa, and his little helper could manage to take out all of these Elves. The problem came when dealing with the Witches and Robot Santa. The Witches may not be at full power, but they still controlled very powerful magic.

BAM!

A loud explosion was heard and the Witch whipped around and screamed “What the hell was that!?”

Sirens began to go off and smoke filled Workshop 13.

Robot Santa shouted to the Zombie Elves, “Go investigate!”

When the first Elf got there he was met with sweet death. Santa impaled him with his sharpened candy cane arm, removing his head, smashing it and flinging him to the side.

“What do you think you are doing? You think that you can take us all on by yourself?! Fool!” Cackled the Witch.

“Of course, I’m Santa. Why don’t you try to prove me wrong.” Proclaimed Santa.

The Witch was taken aback by Santa’s courage and admired it. The Witch laughed at his audacity as she shouted. “Get him Elves!”

The Elves began to swarm towards Santa and he started slashing away at the Army of Elves. Blood and body parties flew every which way as the Witch’s Army of Elves began to dwindle.

“GET HIM ROBOT SANTA!!!”

Just as Robot Santa was getting ready to charge in, a loud crash of glass and the sound of a gunshot rang throughout the warehouse.

Helena exclaimed “Who is firing at us?!”

Robot Santa fell to the ground with a hole the size of a small soccer ball through his chest. Oil leaked from the hole and sparks flew from the wound. “Systems critical, malfunct……” Robot Santa’s red light dimmed and the light in his eyes vanished.

Helena looked up to see an Elf with a small cannon furiously trying to reload behind a shattered window. “He has an Elf! I thought we had taken control of all of the Elves?”

In shock and unsure what had just happened, the Witch stammered, “An EEE..lf? She de.de..de..stroyed our rob..b..b..ot. Where did you come from?” The Witch cast a spell to pull Santa’s Little Helper from the window and as she hit the ground her arm broke causing her gun to slide away from her.

Santa roared from across the workshop with bodies strewn out before him, blood dripping from his sharpened candy cane arm. “Don’t hurt her you animals!”

The Witch picked the small elf up and twisted her broken arm behind her as she screamed in pain “Oh, you poor thing, it looks like Santa’s going to let you down, again. First he lets the North Pole get taken over, and now he is going to let you die.”

Santa’s Little Helper’s eyes swelled up with tears and she whispered something “This isn’t over…”

“Oh, how cute, you think you still have a chance. We may not be at full power, but Helena and I have more than enough magic to defeat you two gnats. To think you thought you cou-”

Just then a hand grabbed the Witch by the throat, and flung her across the warehouse. Digging herself from the rubble the Witch looked at Helena whose mouth was agape, then she saw the culprit. Robot Santa was helping the small elf back up off the ground.

“Robot Santa what are you doing, have you lost your mind? Why are you helping them!”

“System rebooted, all sy-systems func-tioning at sub-optimal levels.” Stammered Robot Santa “Are you OK Santa?” The oil leak had stopped, and the sparking had become less frequent.

“It worked Santa! Robot Santa rebooted, he is back on our side. You were right, if we hit him hard enough he would turn on the Witches!” Exclaimed Santa’s Little Helper.

“Robot Santa, get the Witches now, while they are separated!” shouted Santa.

Robot Santa swung at Helena, but she dodged it and began to make her way over to the Witch. Santa was still preoccupied with the Zombie Elves, but was advancing towards his comrades.

The Witch and Helena were able to regroup and began to cast a spell, but Robot Santa charged at them interrupting the spell. The unstable magic from the spell exploded and blasted the Witch and Helena outside the workshop. Beaten and bloodied the two Witches knew that without Robot Santa they wouldn’t stand a chance with their powers so drained, so they devised an escape plan.

The Witches ran towards workshop 9, where Santa’s sleigh and reindeer are kept. When Santa and Santa’s Little Helper arrived they were greeted by Blitzen, but he too was now a zombie. Missing an antler and with skin peeling, he began to limp towards them. Robot Santa stepped forward to intercept Blitzen, but when he struck Blitzen the reindeer exploded, breaking a column and causing part of the workshop to collapse. When the dust cleared Robot Santa was crushed underneath the sleigh. There would be no coming back from the damage done this time, and Santa looked through the remaining dust cloud and saw the two Witches sprinting from the wreckage. Santa’s Little Helper began to chase them, but Santa stopped them. He grabbed a piece of metal from Robot Santa, threw it forward, and it began to melt when it touched the ground.

“It looks like the set up some traps in case we chased them… They will be back, but in the meantime the North Pole is ours again.”

A Town out of Time

A tale of time travel, magic and the Mafia

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!

A Salem Christmas Story

In a dark chamber of an old run down cabin, muffled sounds were barely audible above the sputters of fire. Atop the fire, there was a black cauldron, big enough to boil a person. A dark figure, with olive skin and dark eyes, was draped in a long, dark dress.

A woman, wearing a large, pointed black hat stirred the contents of the cauldron with a large wooden spoon in slow, steady circles. while a black cat brushed against her leg and began to knead its paws against the thick drapes of her dress.

The Witch whispered her recipe, “Leg of frog. Eye of newt.”, trying to concentrate.

Murmurs and sounds of rustling came from the corner of the room. What looked like a small boy with pointed ears was bound securely, tied with golden tinsel and red ribbons him to a rough, wooden stake. His head rolled side to side before his eyes opened.

“I’ll tend to you soon enough, Alabaster,” the witch muttered, never looking up.

“Where am I? How did I get here?” Alabaster demanded. “I must get back to working on Santa’s Naughty and Nice list. Please let me go!” he pleaded.

“I have plans for you, elf, and bigger plans for Salem, but first you must recruit others for our cause.”

She held up a jar whose contents glowed a shimmering pink and squinted, knotting her mouth in concentration.

She half tipped the jar above the cauldron, pouring its contents in the bubbling goop. At first, nothing happened. Then, steam began to rise from the cauldron, pour out over the floor and into the air around them, obscuring everything in a dense fog.

Gunshots rang out in the distance.

Alabaster tensed and began to shake.

“Don’t worry about them deary”, the Witch laughed, “We still have work to do here.”

He struggled to peer through the white and pink clouds of smoke, but the dark and fog turned all shapes into shifting shadow.

The Witch, cat and cauldron were the only things he could make out. The rest of his surroundings blended together like shadow puppets. The cat arched its back and hissed towards something behind him.

The den of gunshots faded slowly in the distance, rolling over the hills and through the trees like a passing storm.

The Witch took the stirring spoon from her cauldron and began to trace a large circle around herself and the cat.

Alabaster tried thinking of hot chocolate and candy canes. Mistletoes and toys. Anything to calm himself. Licorice, Christmas Trees, Eggnog. “Oh I could really use some Eggnog” he thought to himself. He finally closed his eyes, hot tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Then he could hear them. Sounds coming from just outside the cabin. “Voices”, he thought. “Someone is coming.”

Still shaking, he opened his eyes and squinted, through the tears, into the steam. He could hear the old, rusty door hinges squeal as the door was opened. He could hear someone, something, walk through the doorway.

Two figures, began to take shape. Then three. They slowly made their way through the steam, walking with a hobble. It reminded him somewhat of his friend Otis after a long night of eggnog.

The first figure shuffled closer, parting the fog. Alabaster recoiled at its sloughing skin, pallid complexion and expressionless gaze.  He… it… had a patchy beard, and an eye that had gone completely white.  Its gaunt frame was barely covered by tattered clothes of green and red, despite the December cold.  It wore one green shoe which appeared to be laced by golden string, and drug behind him one foot still bare and mapped by blue veins.

At last, it seemed to notice the elf that was tied to the stake in the corner of the room. It turned it’s head slowly. Unnaturally.

Alabaster screamed.

Snow began to fall in the North Pole, covering Santa’s village in a veil of white. The elves were busy working, making toys for all the good boys and girls. The elves of Workshop 14 were drinking eggnog and dancing jigs in the recreation area of the workshop. The main door was slowly pushed open and Alabaster walked in. His skin a pale white, clothes torn and his eyes were milky. All of the elves turned to look and let out a collective gasp. They all rushed to the aid of their injured friend.

Alabaster turned to the first elf to reach him. He bared his teeth and attacked. No one is as efficient as one of Santa’s elves at accomplishing a task, any task. Within the hour, the 24 elves of Workshop 14 were all turned.

The Witch strolled into the workshop, her black dress spotted with snow but she did not show any signs of being cold.

At 11 o’clock Santa came to make the rounds.  There were other workshops of course, with different specialties.  Perhaps he’d stayed too long with the taffy shop, now he was running behind.  It was therefore that he hardly noticed the smell, already starting to fill the air, of fire and ash.

When Santa saw the chaos that Workshop 14 had become, he tried his best to run. Magic, however, is impossible to escape. He ran for the door. In front of him, the air became hazy and he hit a wall he could not see. His vision went dark.

Santa awoke suddenly as his wrists and ankles were bound tight with twine.

He was in his large sleigh bed, nestled deep in a pile of quilts and furs, and a cozy fire crackled from a massive hearth.

“Alabaster!” he cried, catching  glimpse of the elf over his large belly, “what’s the meaning of this!”

The elf looked up.  His eyes were as cloudy as cream, and his skin hung loose on his face.  His small, nimble fingers never ceased knotting and braiding the twine around Santa’s legs.

Santa tried to sit, but his hands were pulled to high to either side of him.  He jerked his right hand hard against its bindings.

“You are finally awake”, laughed the Witch. “So glad you could join us, I thought you might miss all the fun.”

The workshop had been turned into a black magic lair. The walls, floor, ceiling and even the air was tinted black. The evil of the magic had corrupted everything. The undead elves could be seen toiling away over a large cauldron.

“What are you doing you foul creature?”, Santa screamed infuriated.

“Elven magic is necessary for my plans. Now that I have control of your little flock, I can create magic more powerful than there has ever been!”, the Witch sneered gleefully.

“You see, I once had a coven. They were my sisters but they were taken from me. That town… Salem, it took everything from me”, the Witch said mourningly. “But using the ashes of my sisters and the elven magic, I shall make Salem pay for what they have done.”

“This isn’t the first time evil has entered my village”, Santa said. “Our defenses will be online and coming for you.”

Just then, the window shattered and a large figure landed inside of the workshop. It looked exactly like Santa but moved differently.

“HALT INTRUDER.”, the robot Santa said in an eerie robotic voice.

“Yes, yes. I am well aware of your defenses Santa.”, the Witch growled.

In one swift motion, she plunged her hand into the cauldron and flicked a handful of ash towards the robot. The dust shimmered blue and green as it touched the fake skin covering the robotic body. The cyborg froze.

“Oh no”, Santa exclaimed.

“He is mine now.”, the Witch cried. “With my magic and this… thing, Salem is doomed”, the Witch cackled.

“Thank you Santa for making this even easier.”, she said as she turned her back to him.

The Witch threw the magic ash high into the air, and an image of Salem shimmered in front of them. The Witch, the Cyborg santa and the zombie elves stepped through the image, setting foot onto the cold ground of Salem.

“Finally the time of my revenge is here!”, the Witch exclaimed.

The witch landed upon a hill, and concealed herself with magic.  The rest, whatever happened here, she would observe from afar. With the rest of her coven gone, she could not afford to be careless.

“The people of Salem have all been judged to be naughty!  They have killed my coven, now their blood will be driven upon the snow.”

“HO HO HO”, Robot Santa answered in his metallic voice.

Christmas Eve was a quiet night in Salem. All of the town members were in their homes, enjoying their warm fireplaces. Cotton Mather was stolidly smoking his pipe, sitting rather stiffly in a straight backed chair. He began to hear a commotion outside.

He opened his shutters to look out on the blanket of fresh snow. The scene before his eyes was horrific. Houses in flames, Christmas trees toppled over and the snow stained red.

The remaining townsfolk came pouring out of their homes. In many cases the children were ushered in as quickly as they came, shooed back by the fathers. The townsfolk all reeled back in horror as they say what was once a family of elves turned ghastly.

“Get your rifles men! Protect the Town!”, exclaimed Cotton.

The townsfolk emerged from their homes again, each carrying a musket. The sound of musket fire could not drown out the screams. Inside of one of the houses, black smoke began to billow out of the windows. Perhaps a lamp had been overturned in the melee, or perhaps a townsperson started the fire hoping to kill the elves inside.

“HO HO HO.”, Robot Santa cheered.

A paddy wagon was drawn by four destriers, and  it was framed by thick iron bars.  The horses tramped many of the elves under-hoof, and several others were flung inside and barred in, at the tips of bayonets.

A strong wind was now forcing the fires from the burning house to spread westward, throwing the flames from its burning windows like a powerful billows.

A water tank was opened, and some of the women and children were called out into a bucket chain. Many of the elves had been hemmed into the burning building and the water was directed towards containing the flames from spreading to nearby houses.

The witch watched the remainder of the chaos from the ridge above. Robot Santa fell to a parade of gunfire from the town’s sheriff and deputy.

Most of the elves had been burned, even the paddy wagon seemed to have been immolated.  Someone in Salem had a lust for arson she noted. As two more houses started to smolder. A shame, she thought, that such an individual would foil her plans. Perhaps later, he’d be an ally.

The town began to quiet, only the sound of flaming wood crackling could be heard. The Witch stood atop the hill aghast. Her plan had failed but she was nothing if not persistent. She came up with a new plan that would destroy Salem forever.

She reached inside the folds of her skirt and pulled out a vial of ashes, and threw a sprinkle of them high into the air. Before her glimmered an ornate, turreted building on a distinctly Italian countryside. Warm air gusted out of the portal. The ashes had more power than even she had known.

She looked through the portal, then back at Salem. “So much hard work wasted”, she sighed.

As the Witch stepped through the portal, it became evident that this place was not of her time. Through a nearby window she could see horseless carriages speeding along. She had arrived in Sicily, Italy but not the Sicily she knew.

“Ey, how’d you get in ‘ere? If you got a beef you gotta talk to the Capo.”, a voice came from behind her.

The Witch turned about. She saw a older man with salt and pepper hair. He was tall, confident and, the Witch could tell, powerful.

“I have a job for you. One you cannot refuse”, The Witch sneered. She reached into her pocket and threw a handful of ash the man’s way. His eyes glazed over.

“The Don, at your service. Who do you want me to whack?”, the man said lazily.

The Witch grinned evilly.