The nights
are cooling, its fall in Hogtown, 1859. It’s time for harvest and a time for
slaughter.
Mary Worth,
is a witch
.
She lives in
a swamp, southeast of the settlement, by herself. Mary has a skeletal
appearance, her hands and face are covered in warts and cist from embedded
thorns that infected and never removed. Her fingers have long yellowed nails
with embedded filth. Her face is wrinkled, with sunken eyes covered with a dull
haze with black circles surrounding her eyes. Mary’s hair is long, black matted
but mostly gray. She walks with a stoop and a mystic stick for support. She
wears tattered, black clothing with a hood to cover her face.
Mary Worth,
is a witch.
She makes a
monthly trip to the general store, with a sled, of sort, strapped across her
shoulders. When she walks through the swamp and forest, the dragging sound of
the sled and the thump of the mystic stick echoes throughout.
Mary was met
on a trail, the year prior, by a local farmer who had heard the tales of Mary.
He stood in her way and looked down upon her. What do we have here; the dreaded
witch from the swamp? Look at you, you are nothing more than a tattered
vagabond, go back to your swamp, quit scaring my children. I do not fear you!
Mary raised her mystic stick towards the farmer and hissed at him through her
yellow and green teeth. A cold chill ran down the back of the farmer and the
smell of earth surrounded him, as Mary hissed at him once again. The farmer
stepped aside and let her pass. Later that year, his wife and children caught
the fever and died. He became weak in the heart and spent the last months of
his life begging, bedridden in filth. There are far worse things in life, than
death.
Mary would
come to town for nothing more than salt and occasionally some black cloth. She
would lay her coins on the counter, never speaking a word. The merchant would
set her change on the counter in front of Mary and wait till she walked out of
the store before brushing the coins into a bucket of lamp oil, because he was
afraid to touch them.
Mary Worth
is a witch.
The next
morning, the town was stirred up with fear; a young girl was missing. They
searched the town and the woods surrounding the settlement, she was nowhere to
be found. A week later, another girl was missing and the townspeople searched
every house and building, the woods and all the way to the swamp; she was
nowhere to be found. The following night, another girl became missing. It’s the
witch, she’s taking the girls, the parents cried out; she’s taking our girls!
Several men gathered together and made their way into the swamp to search for
Mary. It took most of the day for the men to find Mary’s homestead, fighting
the muck and the vines and the insects.
When they approached her shack, a dark figure was standing in back,
stirring a cauldron over an open fire. The merchant stepped forward and called
out to Mary. Mary, we have young girls missing; do you know where they are?
Mary never looked up or acknowledged him, she just kept stirring the cauldron.
You old witch; where are the girls? She turned sharply and starred at the
merchant, but something was different. Her hair was straight and the gray was
gone. Her eyes had a sparkle from where there was only a dull haze before and
the black circles and wrinkles were gone. The moles and cist were smaller and
she actually had a color to her skin. She raised her mystic stick and held it
out in front of her towards the merchant; Be Gone! He could feel the pressure
of her mystic stick on his chest and the smell of earth surrounded him. Be
Gone, she scolded one more time, this time almost knocking the merchant off his
feet. The other men started stepping backwards then turned and run. The
merchant struggled through the vines and muck trying to catch up with the other
men as they ran away from Mary’s homestead.
It was past
dark when the men made it back to the settlement, exhausted, scratched and
filthy with the memory of Mary Worth, embedded into their conscious. The
merchant walked to the pump, and drew a pail of water to clean up before
entering his home. The oil lamp gave an orange hue to the room as he opened the
door and met his wife, waiting for him at the dining table. He explained the
happenings of the day and made his way upstairs to their bed before an uneasy
night of sleep.
The merchant
was awaken at 12:08 by his wife; Sarah is gone, Sarah is gone; she screamed!
The merchant, in a sleeping stupor, grabbed his gun from the wall, loaded two
silver bullets into the chamber and headed down the stairs. He grabbed a
lantern, raised the globe and lit the wick and headed out into the darkness
screaming Sarah’s name. “Sarah”, “Sarah”, “Sarah”! Several neighbor, hearing
the commotion, come out in their night shirts and called for Sarah. Other men
gathered with lanterns and head off in different directions, in search of
Sarah, calling out her name. The merchant saw a small white figure a hundred
yards in front of him, it was Sarah and she was walking towards a bright light.
The merchant screamed out Sarah’s name but she kept walking. As he ran closer,
he saw it was Mary Worth, holding her mystic stick up, glowing in light he had
never seen before. He dropped the lamp, pulled the hammer back on his gun,
aimed and shot Mary in the thigh. The glowing stick fell to the ground and went
dark, as did Sarah. The merchant clutched his daughter as several men ran past
them to where Mary Worth lay. She had changed, the woman on the ground was a
younger Mary Worth, but it was Mary. Several men tackled her, bound her wrist
and ankles with hemp, drug her into a clearing beneath a grand oak. The cast a
rope over a limb and hoisted Mary, by her hands, over twenty feet in the air.
More townspeople gathered around to witness the witch hissing and screaming as
she dangled from the branch. Several men gathered lanterns and headed back into
the swamp to Mary’s shack to find the missing girls. When they arrived at the
shack, coals glowed beneath the cauldron and the shack was aglow from burning
candles. The door was open and what they found sickened them. One of the men
found his daughter’s corpse hanging above Mary’s alter. A blood covered challis
sat upon an altar, dried blood coating all parts of the challis and alter.
Dried blood streams running down the sides of the altar to the skeletal remains
of a child. Alongside the altar was a box of salt and when they brushed the
surface, the face of the other missing girl was exposed. The men gathered the
remains of the children and wrapped them in the black cloth from Mary’s bed.
The poured lamp oil on the walls of the shack and lit it as they walked into
the darkness. The flames rose quickly and roared above the trees as the men
entered the swamp and back to Hogtown.
It would be
first light before the men returned to the settlement with the remains. The
townspeople cast judgement and began gathering liter and wood to pile beneath
the hissing witch. At sundown, the townspeople gathered around the woodpile as
judgement was passed and the pile lit. Mary Worth screamed and called out; you
will all be damned! Your children will call upon me. The flames rose as Mary
screamed as the flames touched her feet and her clothing started to smoke, the
merchant cut the rope, casting her into the flames. The following day, they
gathered the ashes, took them to the edge of the swamp and scattered them into
the dark water.
Today, as
you walk along Lake Alice at sundown, step off the sidewalk onto the dirt path
that runs along the east side. Look across the lake, close your eyes and call
out; Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary. You’ll hear the sound of her sled
rails and the thumping of her mystic stick and the smell of earth with surround
you.
Mary Worth
is a witch.
Young girls will
gather in slumber, sit cross legged on the floor with a lighted candle, a bowl
of salt and a mirror, hold hands and call out; Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody
Mary. Her image will appear in the mirror.
Mary Worth
is a witch.
Only the
brave will venture into a dark room, alone, with a candle and bowl of salt held
out in front of them, stare into a mirror and call; Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,
Bloody Mary. As her image appears, your soul will be cast into the mirror to
spend eternity with Bloody Mary.
Mary Worth
is a witch.
If you want to read the rest of the story, the book is available here.
