“Revenge is my calling; pain is my quest; I swear you and your sisters will receive tenfold my suffering in return; for if at least one breath remains within me, I will use it to bring all my vengeance upon you.” Dressed in black, the aggrieved woman, on her knees with the support of a disfigured, broken hand, barely holding her body above the ground, arched her back and lifted her head. She looked up and released the grip of her other bloodied hand from the rope around her neck to point at three women dressed in black robes. She spoke again, “You will not stop me and you cannot hide, not even behind the innocent, who will suffer my wrath if they stand between us. I, Annika, swear upon my kin that we are not resolved.”
One of the three women raised her hand in the direction towards the other end of the battered woman’s binding; the rope, tied to a large rock, sat atop a brick encasement around a deep well. Suddenly, the rock rolled back into the hole. Only the sound of stone banging back and forth against bricks could be heard, before the captive woman was sucked into her tomb. Then finally, a splash.
“And so it begins,” said one of the witches.