The Witch Boy

April 21st 1623;

My name is Tobias Flintlock, and I am a witch. Well, not a witch, I like to call myself a Warlock. But no one has called me that, they've all just reverted to calling me, "Witch Boy in the cage," until they plan to hang me.

Well, my name is Tobias and I've been convicted as a witch in the eyes of my church. I tried to tell them, not witch, Warlock! But I suppose it didn't matter, it would make no difference; they still plan to hang me and most likely expel my family from the church.

My mother didn't even defend me like she promised she would, she just stood there and watched as they condemned me to Hell and to dance with the devil.

I am still grateful for my older sister Ruth though. She has given me this paper to leave my message to all, and to leave my curse upon this land! I was the one making the harvests bountiful, making the women of the land give birth to many healthy children, and the illnesses and diseases at bay so that my village could grow powerful and strong! But no longer!

I condemn the land to wither, the crops to wilt and shrivel underneath the harvest sunlight! And I'll make the women of the land barren, the children sick with disease and the remaining food to be riddled with maggots, whilst the men shall slowly be picked off, one by one, by wolves and disease!

Only my sisters and my one brother will leave this place, all of my defenders will be spared from the painful, slow deaths I will bestow upon these evil people. I'm only ten, for Satan's sake! I am not even an experienced Warlock!

The sun is rising once again...the demons that dance around me are welcoming my soul, they are beckoning me to join them...I am so tired, I did not even want to sleep on my last night.

I have written down my curse, so you, Ruth, can take our brother and sisters, and you can run away from this land. I have cursed the soil now; there is no going back, my sister. I have spared you from never having children, you and our sisters, but not our mother. Not our father. They shall suffer.

Don't think of me as evil. Think of me, as the Warlock that hid in our family so well. A master of disguise. A much kinder, gentler form of child, who could bring our village to power.

I hate this land...and now it is time for my saviour to take my soul. We shall not meet again, Ruth.

Goodbye.