Death of the Protestants

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

The Protestants think they can take the forest away from the coven of witches. They simply do not understand the powers they are meddling with.

The howling call of the forest mother woke Symla from sleep.  She emerged out the roots of her tree, dirt clinging to her naked torso. She looked about to see the other witches were waking from their slumber. The noon sun hung high in the sky.  It burned Symla’s eyes. 

“Must be the Protestants.”  One of the witches said as she stretched.  “There interruptions are growing tiresome.”

The Coven scaled the trees, jumping from branch to branch as they headed towards the forest mothers call.  Her horrid shrieks filled the air.  Symla suddenly realized the mother wasn’t simply calling them.  She was in pain.  The witches looked at each other as panic spread across their faces.  They hurried.

The protestent men stood in a circle around a large burning pillar.  They laughed and cheered as the forest mother burned.  She thrashed against the ropes that held her tight to the stake.  It was of no use. Her inhuman form was set ablaze.

A choire of angered screams came from the tree line.  The protestent men spun around to see the coven hanging above them in the trees.  They raised their pitchforks as the hoard of naked women ran at them with the ferocity of a pack of wolves.

Symla jumped at one of the men, easily throwing his pitchfork aside.  He screamed as she viciously bit into his neck.  The scream was silenced as she yanked her head back, bringing his throat with her.  She spat out the chunk of flesh, her bloody teeth gleaming in the sunlight.  The man fell to the ground, letting out a few girgilly cries before passing away.

Symla ran over to the fire as her sisters disposed of the men.  It was harder to call on her powers during the day.  She clenched her eyes shut and focused.  A blast of cold wind shot out from her palms.  The fire fought back but was extinguished nonetheless.  Symla ran to the forest mothers side.  She was limp and her body scorched.  She had passed.

Rage filled Symla as she turned to face her sisters.  They were covered in blood.  The mangled bodies of the protestent men lay strewn about. 

“We have tolerated the existence of these monsters for too long.”  Symla’s words were filled with vile and distain.  “Tonight we attack.”




Susanna tossed and turned in her bed.  Her father hadn’t returned from his hunt.  He said they were off to cleanse the land.  She prayed for her father but it did nothing to calm her soul.

A bright light suddenly shown from outside the window.  Curiosity gripped Susanna and she went to look.  Fear filled her heart as she saw the coven of witches atop the hill that lead to the forest.  There naked torsos gleamed in the pale moonlight.  A pentagram burnt on the side of the hill and they chanted.

Susanna was petrified as the pentagram opened up, shadowy creatures stepping forth from the abyss.  They were both dog and men and yet neither.  Even from this distance Susanna could see there large fans dripping with drool.  The satanic abominations ran towards the village.  Susanna screamed.

“What’s wrong my darling?”  Susanna's mother rushed Into the room.  Her eyes went wide as she looked out the window.  Her blood ran cold as screams filled the night air.  She picked her daughter up and ran towards the front door.

“The church.” The mother murmured as she flew down the steps. “The church will be safe.”

The carnage that lay outside was immense.  The Demons dragged the villagers from their homes and tore them to shreds.  Blood and guts filled the streets as pained screams echoed through the foggy night. 

The mother ran faster than she’d ever ran.  A demon saw her and gave chase.  She ducked and weaves between the houses.  The church lay just outside the village.  She dashed through the grassy field the demon on her heels.  The church was now only a few feet away.

The demon grew sick of toying with its prey and lunged at the mother.  With one fearsome bite it decapitated her.  Tears drenched Susanas cheeks as she crawled from her dead mother's grasp.  Blood spewed from the headless neck, drenching her.  The demon fed on the corpse as the girl ran for the church.

Symla watched all this from the hilltop.  Her sisters were running to join the slaughter but she currently didn’t have the appetite for it.  Instead she walked towards the church.  The Demon was throwing itself against the doors.  He’d finished feeding on the mother and now he wanted the girl.  Symla shot it a savage look as she approached.  It whimpered like a beaten dog and ran to join its brethren.

Symla strutted into the church, easily blowing the doors of their hinges.  Susanna lay in the fetal position behind the podium.  A large wooden sculpture of the crucifiction loomed above her.

This is there god.  Symla thought as she moved past pew after pew.  A weak man hanging dead for all to see.

“St-stay away.”  Susanna weekly murmured as the strange lady aproched.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”  Symla ran her hand gently through the girls blood soaked hair.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I want my mom.”  The girl was shaking.

“I can be your mom.”  Symla’s voice was kind and gentle.  “Would you like that?”

Despite the carnage she’d just witnessed Susanna felt a strange calm overcome her.  She nodded.

“Good.” Symla smiled and picked up the girl, placing her softly over her shoulder.  “I can’t wait for you to meet your sisters.  You’ll be strong.  Like us.”

Symla looked up at the sculpture of Christ.  She reached her hand forward and snapped her finger.  The effigy burst into flames, the sad eyes of Jesus casting benine judgment as Symla walked away.  Susanna watched the church burn as they walked over the green field and Into the forest.

Submitted: April 19, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Conrad Hueston. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



A violent clash of beliefs. If only certain groups could practice tolerance instead of condemning those that do not follow their beliefs.

Sun, April 19th, 2020 5:54pm


Exactly! Obviously this story is a fictitious exaggeration. Most witches and pagans I've met are very accepting.

Sun, April 19th, 2020 12:01pm

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