Witch Murder

Geoffrey Wormite had been up to much in the past few months. Setting up
plans, preparing tools, appointing meetings and most importantly, getting
what he wants. In fact, phase one of his plan would begin in precisely one
hour. Everything was going perfectly and accordingly to plan. Geoffrey (or Jeff
as he was called) began to get dressed in his freezing house. The damp wooden
floor creaked beneath his feet and the darkness surrounded him apart from
the minuscule candle repelling a small area of black. A tiny window (a small
opening with wooden shutters that were closed at night or in bad weather )
stood to the right of an edge of Jeff’s house. Jeff wore his best purple and black
tunic that he owned. He needed to impress the Lord on his meeting. Not that it
would matter, the Lord would be dead not after long.

Phase kill Lord

Geoffrey finally arrived at the Lord’s house and knocked on the Lord’s
(vertically planked as well as backed with horizontal and diagonal bracings)
door. Lord Roger de Walsham was not the kind of man you would want to
disappoint. He had much to show off including his colossal manor fully built of
stone. As soon as Geoffrey’s hand left the door, the door swung back and there
stood a richly dressed man with a green tunic dotted with gold through the
middle and a silk hat on his head. He was around his forties. The inside of his
house instantly wafted its smell outside of mustiness covered up by herbs and
rushes. Behind the Lord peasants dominated the halls and worked furiously as
if their lives depend on it. “My Lord!” Geoffrey exclaimed in the uttermost
respect. “Good afternoon, fellow knight Mathew.” “What was so important
that we must speak in person? Come inside.” Lord Roger invited. Geoffrey had
to pretend to be a knight that Lord Roger hadn’t met before so that Jeff could
carry out his plan. They walked past the solar where fish, chicken, white bread
and wine was being prepared. They arrived at the great hall where 2 large
fireplaces were positioned opposite each other, and wooden furniture was
spaced around the room. “Would you like anything, Mathew?” “I’ll have
whatever you’re having my Lord.” Jeff replied in a polite manner. The Lord
ordered for 2 wines, and they arrived. “So, tell me the situation.” Demanded
Lord Roger. “Of course, however let us drink first!” Little did Roger know,
Geoffrey had added a little special ingredient to Roger’s drink, furthermore,
when Roger took a sip, death wrapped around him and squeezed him till he
joined the lifeless emptiness that you experience when your soul leaves your
body. Geoffrey quickly and stealthily escaped from the Lordless manor before
any of the peasants realised what had occurred. When Jeff got outside, he
could mainly hear the blacksmiths working on tools and equipment but before
Geoffrey could escape, a siren went out and Jeff was taken to the church for a
trial. A witch trial.

Trial Time
In the church was a huge space crowded by seats and a stand at the front. It
smelt just like the Lord’s manor: like wet wood and stone. Columns lined along
the right and left of the church and their white contrasted with the brown
benches. A member of the pope was in charge of Geoffrey’s trial and Jeff knew
that no matter what happened, he would die. The first thing they did was
kidnap Jeff’s rabbit and torture it to death in the gruesome way of smashing
the rabbit’s head against the wall until its blood was sprawled everywhere and
it had achieved death. Next, they tied Jeff to a wooden large board so that he
could not move and began placing needles all over him to find the spot where
he had been touched by the devil and prove he was a witch. Pain writhed
through his body and blood oozed out in all the places that the needles
stabbed. They didn’t find anything and called off the search when he was
bleeding everywhere. After wiping him down, one of the peasants that were
working on Jeff tripped and stabbed him in a well-hidden area at the small of
his back. Despite being stabbed, No blood dripped from the area and a white
circle surrounded the needle. That was all the proof they needed.

** ** **
The member of the pope was the one who personally hanged Geoffrey whilst
the others held his arms and legs to make sure no sudden movements, or any
tricks were played. Jeff was also gagged to make sure he didn’t cast any spells
before death delivered. An executor with a mask held a great sharp axe and
began to swing his axe. One slow swing and back it went, another slow swing
and back it went, another slow swing and back it went. Jeff knew this. It was a
typical executer build up. 3, 2, 1 and dead. I came the third swing. The axe
backed up to gain momentum. And released. Dead Jeff’s body was. But he
wasn’t.

After death
Where was he? Geoffrey recognised the area as his familiar, piece of rubbish
house. The manor had made him realise how unjust it was that all the peasants
and civilians got a small, wooden house with barely anything. The Lord was rich
and left everyone else to rot. He had deserved to die. Something was odd with
Jeff though. He didn’t seem to be as tall. Jeff glanced into the window to see
his reflection and was startled to see he was in his son’s body. He would now
be known as Mathew Wormite. Looking around, Geoffrey in Mathew’s body
noticed everything in a new vision. From a different perspective. Like the lines
in the wood were now visible and looked ugly as well as dark. It was daylight
now and Geoffrey was in a new body. A new life. And another chance to kill.