Salem, Massachusetts 1692

     A small village sat nestled in a small valley out in the middle of nowhere. The village only held a few small wood-framed houses, but the people who lived there were friendly, and quite happy with their way of life.

     The night was chilly, the thick fog giving off a spooky atmosphere, as the sounds of dogs barking could be heard in the early morning darkness.

     Under the light of the full moon, entangled in the darkness of the forest, a spooky looking house, sat on top of a tall hill, settled away from the cozy village, purple smoke rising from the chimney, twisting and turning in a very unnatural fashion. This was no ordinary smoke though... and it certainly didn't come from any ordinary house.

     A dark shadow shot across the moon, zipping thorough the sky, heading off quickly towards the helpless village...

—————

     A troll in a long white nightshirt slept in his bed, though his rest was anything but peacefully. A quiet tune rung through his ear drums, as if beckoning him forwards. Telling him to come...

'Come little children... I'll take thee away... into a land of enchantment...'

His face was covered in sweat, as he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to get the voice to leave his head.

"Neigh!" the family hoarse suddenly whinnied, kicking over a pale of water.

"AHHHHH!" the young boy screamed, startled awake by the sudden sound, as he sprung up in his bed, looking around his room frantically. "Emily?" he whispered softly, looking to his little sister's bed, except... she wasn't there...

'Come little children... the time's come to play... here in my garden of magic...'

The voice from his dreams... but... it... it was real... coming from just outside his window.

'Follow sweet children... I'll show thee the way... through all the pain... and the sorrows...'

Quickly , the young troll headed outside, looking around, as he called out for his sister.

"Emily!?" he yelled out, his voice filled with desperate worry. "Emily!? Where arth thou!?"

     'Weep not poor children... for life is this way... murdering beauty and passions...'

(Ummm... I am not making this up... those are literally the lyrics to the song...)

     From the gate of the sheep's pen, the young troll spotted his best friend, Elijah, in his own yard, looking off into the distance as if in some sort of trance.

     "Elijah!" the boy cried out, running over to his friend, who didn't react to his approach in any way. "Elijah!"

     He grabbed his friend's arm, Elijah turning to him, blinking as if just haven awoken from a dream.

     "Hast thou seen my sister?" the young boy asked, looking at his friend, who seemed a bit dazed and confused.

     "Nay..." he finally replied, turning back to the forest, as he stared off into the distance once more. "But look... they conjure..."

     He pointed to a long stream of purple smoke, rising up above the tree tops, as a little figure dressed in all white walked into the forest, as if under some sort of spell.

     'Hush now dear children... it must be this way... too weary of life... and deceptions...'

     "Oh, God. Not the woods!" the boy yelled out in a panic, recognizing the figure as his little sister. "Emily!"

     "She's done for..." Elijah muttered under his breath, watching the little girl wonder aimlessly into the forest. "Not yet!" the young troll said determine to save his sister. Nothing was going to hurt her on his watch.

     "But Thackeray... the witches..." Elijah objected.
"I don't care about the witches!" the young troll yelled out, turning to his friend. "Thy's my sister! I'm going after her! You wake my father. Summon the elders. Go!"

     He started to run off into the woods, as his friend ran off to warn the towns people of the threat.

     'Rest now my children... for soon we'll away... into the calm and the quiet...'

     "Emily!" Thackeray yelled out, chasing after his little sister. "Emily!" But the little girl continued forwards, as if being dragged on by an unseen force.

     'Come little children... I'll take thee away... into a land of enchantment... Come little children... the time's come to play... here in my garden of shadows...'

—————

     Thackeray ran through the thickly settled forest as fast as he could, jumping over one branch, and then sliding under another.

     As he ran, he tripped on an old tree root, falling forwards before tumbling roughly down a hill.

     At the bottom, he finally rested in a pile of dead leaves, groaning in pain.

     "Ugh..." he groaned, slowly pushing himself up onto his sore feet, which were all scratched up from running through the forest barefoot.

     He gasped, as his eyes widened in horror.

     Before him stood the old cabin, purple smoke spitting out of the chimney. The old Sanderson house... the home of the village witches...

     Of course there was no proof of the three old women who lived there being witches, otherwise they would have already been hanged for their crimes long ago, but everyone in the village knew the truth. They all knew to fear the Sanderson sisters.

     "Come, child," one of the old women said kindly, opening up the front door for Emily to enter the old house.

     "Emily..." Thackeray muttered in fear, quickly running to look in through a window.

     "My darling... my little book." the oldest sister said, her red hair tinged with streaks of grey from her old age.

     She walked towards an old book which sat on a pedistool, gently beginning to tap it rapidly. "We must continue with our spell now that our little guest of honor has arrived," she said with an evil grin, glancing over at the little girl, who now sat perfectly still in a wooden chair.

     "No..." Thackeray whispered. He needed to get in there! Before it was too late...

     Quickly, he hurried over to an old waterwheel attached to the side of the house, climbing up it, despite the wetness that quickly covered his body.

     Once at the top, he climbed through a small opening in the roof of the house, ending up on a small balcony above the living room, where the three witches were currently readying themselves for breakfast...

     "Wake up. Wake up, darling," the red haired sister said sweetly, gently tapping her long, curved finger against the leather cover of her book.

     Slowly, a singular eyes began to blink open on the book, looking around the room drowsily.

     "Yes. Oh, come along, darling," she cooed, trying to help the book wake from it's rest. "There you are... now let's see here..." She opened up the book, reading the ingredients for their latest potion. "Mary!" she suddenly called out sternly.

     An old purple troll standing in the corner flinched, hearing her name being called by her sister.

     "Right here, Winnie!" she called back, quickly rushing over to her elder sister's side. "Right here."
"Get my pot ready..." the red haired toll ordered, Mary quickly rushing off to obey her sister's command.        

     "I've noticed sister Sarah isn't helping," Mary tattled, as she hung a big black cauldron from the ceiling. "I lured the child here," the yellow troll said, sticking out her tongue, as she swung from the rafters as if she was a child herself.

     "Leave her be," Winnie scolded, slapping the back of Mary's head. "She hath done her chore!"
"You're right," Marry said apologetically. "I'm wrong."

     "All right. 'Tis time!" Winnie announced, as the purple troll lit a fire under the cauldron. "Bring to a full rolling bubble," she read from her book. "Add two drops oil of boil.''
"Here it is, Winnie," Mary said, bringing over a small jar to her sister.

     Winnie snatched the jar from the purple troll, dripping two drops of the liquid into the pot.

     "Mix blood of owl with the herb that's red," she read from her book, doing as it instructed. "Stir three times... pluck a hair from thy head."

     She reached forewords, snatching a hair from Mary's head.

     "Ow!" the purple troll cried out, as her sister threw the hair into the cauldron.

     "Add a dash of pox, and a dead man's toe," Winnie continued reading. "Dead man's toe, and make it a fresh one," she ordered, ushering Mary away.

     "Dead man's toe! Dead man's toe! Add a dead man's toe!" Sarah began to sing, acting totally immature for her old age. "Dead man's toe! Dead man's t..."
"Would you shut it!?" Winnie scolded, as Mary slapped the back of the youngest sister's head.

     Mary pulled a toe out of a jar that sat on a shelf, sniffing it so she could tell the age.

     "Fresh one," she told Winnie, bringing the toe over to her older sister.
     
     ''Green newt saliva," Winnie continued, as a familiar smell suddenly came to the middle sister's nose. She was rather good at sniffing things out, partly because her farther was half beagle.

     "Winnie..." she said, sniffing the air frantically. "I... I smell a child."

     Thackeray gulped, shrinking back a bit to stay hidden.

     "Ugh..." Winnie groaned, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "And what dost thou call that?" she said rudely, gesturing over to the young girl sitting patiently in the wooden chair.

     "A... uh... a child?" Mary answered with an innocent grin.

     Winnie rolled her eyes, whacking the back of Mary's head roughy, before going back to her potion.

     "Sisters!" she called out. "Gather 'round!"

     The two old trolls rushed over, joining Winnie in a circle around the hanging cauldron.

     "One thing more, and all is done..." Winnie stated. "Finally when 'tis nearly done...
add a bit of thy own tongue."

     All three of the sisters bit off a chunk of their tongues, spitting them into the cauldron.

     "'Tis ready..." Winnie exclaimed. "One drop of this and her life will be mine!"

     She cackled evilly, but her sister's just stared at her, not laughing along, not pleased with her choice of words.

     "I mean... ours," Winnie correct with an innocent grin. "But mostly mine..." she muttered softly afterwards. "All right, girl. Open up your mouth."

     Slowly, she approached Emily with a wooded spoon filled to the brim with the potion the witches had just created.

     The young girl opened her mouth as ordered, the oldest sister pouring the thick green liquid down her throat.

     "No!" Thackeray yelled out in terror, jumping down from his hiding place.
"A boy!" Sarah yelled out, all three witches turning to him in shock.
"Get him, you fools!" Winnie ordered, both of her two sisters taking off after Thackeray.

     "I knew it!" Mary shouted, as she charged at the young troll. "I knew I smelled a boy!"

     The two younger sisters chased after the child, as he circled around the cauldron, trying to avoid their grasp.

     "Get him! Get him now!" Winnie ordered, steam smoking out of her ears in anger.

     Quickly, Thackeray grabbed onto the lip of the boiling cauldron, thrusting it towards the two witches, ignoring the burning pain that was now searing through his hands.

     Once the poison was spilled across the floor, the young boy quickly made a dash for his little sister, trying to grab her, so they could both get out of their safely. But he didn't get far...

     Winnie raised her hand, green lightning shooting out of her fingertips, and striking Thackeray right in the chest.

     His muscles seized, as the young troll collapsed to the floor, his vision blurred, and body aching, as his whole world went black.