Massachusetts, 1692...what an awful time to be alive. Especially for a young, timid girl by the name of Clarabeth. Not exactly the most special of girls, just a hard worker for her family, an all around fair person. Unfortunately, Clarabeth woke from an unpleasant sleep with a start on a gloomy August twilight, to the sound of people shouting and an accused “witch” tied to a stake, crying with the force of a tidal wave, pleading to be let down. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! Please, just let me go!” cried the poor lady, but the townspeople weren't hearing her wales of misery.
A particular witch hunter, one feared across the land of Massachusetts by the name of Vladimhok Sakovich, stepped forward with an ablaze torch, and a grimace of pure malice and disdain, and said with utter heartlessness, “May the Lord have mercy on your damned soul” and dropped the torch. Clarabeth wheeled around and shielded her eyes from the horror of a human roasting alive. She tried to block it out, but the
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Not willing to let this deed go unpunished, she leapt down, only to spot the one person she feared most. She hid behind a tree, with her breathing accelerating rapidly as the Witch Hunter drew closer. To her luck, he hadn’t seen her drop down, however he had heard the leaves rustle beneath her. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, you little minx.” Cooed Vladimhok, crossbow at the ready and prepared to spring at anything that moved. Remembering she was armed herself, she pulled out her makeshift bow, and nocked an arrow. She rolled from cover, a grimace of hatred plastered on her face and hollering with a war cry to startle a wolf, drew the arrow and pointed at Vladimhok’s heart and released the poorly crafted projectile! Spotting Clara, Vladimhok, took aim and cackles maniacally, as launched the cross stake at Clarabeth, barreling directly for