There is was the dragon she had read about in the seemingly leather-bound book. Phoebe Warren stood there, petrified. Her grandmother had told her about the dragon, she'd been so foolish as to open the book at the wrong
time.

Phoebe had been safe so far, being a witch in hiding in this time period was hard, for the Salem Witch Trials had been taking place. Phoebe turned to stare into the eyes of the demonic beast; his amber orbs were full of
malice.

She whimpered and backed up against the bare oak tree, 'No where to go now,
eh?' A voice echoed through her head. She started to tear up, her short life was about to end. She had fought for survival before, having used her
Wiccan ways in front of a village outing once.

Now was different. She faced something from her own world, a majestic
beast, a dragon.

The dragon inched toward Phoebe, snaking out his tongue to smell and/or
taste her. Phoebe shrieked as the dragon snapped his jaws.

Shaking her head she thought about what she possessed, the element of fire. Then she took the precious time to think. 'Isn't a dragon fire as well?' She had no time; she threw up her hand and sent a ball of illuminating fire
hurtling toward the dragon.

Then, she heard it, "Witch!" A man yelled. How could they not see the
dragon before and saved her? Phoebe thought.

Many ran to the gallows, where the witch was. Those that heard the call
circled around the Oak tree.

Phoebe still had her eyes on the dragon; she was yanked backwards, something like a bag covered her head and she could no longer see. She was dragged up and onto the back of a horse, the noose and rope around her neck
and a high tree branch.

"Any last words, witch?" Called a faceless man. She shook her head and called out as the man urged the horse to move forward quickly, "Beware the Dragon!" Then there was a crack and she hung lifeless from the oak tree.
She hadn't escaped death, but she escaped the dragon. She would be the
only.