The Witch Hunt.
I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. The memories of what happened ten years back flashed in my mind. To summarise it… The Supernatural… are being hunted. And ironically, I was on top of that list.
Why was that ironic?
After all these years, my careful yet cautious moves kept saving me from getting caught and letting me peacefully co-exist with the mortals. They trusted me. Broke their bread and shared their meal with me. And one tiny mistake snatched me away from the good side of their minds.
A mistake that wasn’t even my fault. Only a nature that has been inbred in me.
I was able to hide that mistake for ten years that prevented me from getting killed and watching every one of those supernatural being brutally tortured and killed as they made a circus joke out of it. I had to keep silent… Only because I was one of them… And standing up would only lead me where all supernaturals go.
At first, the Mortals were completely oblivious of our existence and we made it our responsibility to keep it that way. Until one of the leaders fell in love with a human, who in my opinion wasn’t even his mate nor worth it.
And because of that, the rumour spread with a proof when they flayed the body of the man.
It was a day of great loss and a day where it was the turning point of our history.
Every creature from the supernatural stopped living and started surviving. Some even tried to suppress their given talents in their DNA. But mortals have scoped every area to find ways to kill us.
And their main target was us witches.
They knew our power. They saw our true strength. They knew that we were the true guardians that protected our realm. And the thought of that scared them.
So we were their prime target.
That’s where the story of ten years back came from.
My family lived in a secret village where all witches could live in peace. Occasionally a creature from our world did stumble. But mortals? They couldn’t find this place. So we assumed we were safe.
Until that one fine day, where a hybrid entered our lands. Only problem, she hated our kind plus she had no clue about her dormant half. And because of her, my village was completely wiped out. The only survivor was me.
I remember my parents telling me, to hide, to camouflage myself in the mortal’s realm, to find the safety to live. Living in secret was no long safer. And this was the proof.
But again, as I said… my past caught up with me.
You know it’s kind of weird that anything out of place in the supposed to be perfect world, Mortals would try to wipe it out.
Just last week, they killed my best friend because she was gay. Mortal but liked women instead. Was that wrong?
They didn’t kill her instantly. Nor gave her a proper burial. They stuck her body through a stick and paraded it around the city. A warning to all those who aren’t normal.
That makes me think… now that I have been caught after trapping me with witch hazel in water and everything they served when they heard a witch lived here, what are they going to do with me?
Would they drench me in hazel witch water like they killed the witch family in Milan?
Would they probe me with cuts and slits like the werewolf in Australia?
Would they tear me apart and splatter my blood all over the city as a warning to stay aloof?
Would they make me fight the hunger games with rabid driven supernaturals without my magic?
Too many thoughts invaded my mind as I was tied to that wooden pole in the middle of the city square.
My eyes were tightly closed as tears rolled down my puffy cheeks. I was waiting for Death to visit me. Waiting was making me impatient. I was eager to be with my departed family.
Suddenly… a painful shrill scream left my pale lips as it hit me.