1647, Windsor Connecticut
Fear of witchcraft was not brought about by the God fearing people of my village but through the whispers of a demon, clothed in seductive crimson, an expert of womanly wiles. It was she that destroyed my town from within, tore my family apart and sent me to an innocent’s death. I am not a witch but I will burn as one. Not for fear but for greed. For lust. For the pursuit of something far beyond the reach of any human.
Most people think the witch trials began in Salem. They are wrong.
This is my tale.