17th century in times of snow, winter was amongst a town yet it was empty of its people, a ghost town it was. The peasants were chasing after a group, as a priest commanded them forward into the woods where they hid. The wind howled at the women who marched through deep snow that reached above their ankles. Draped in white cloaks with warm clothing underneath to match the heavy snow that poured down. Rushing towards a dream of peace that was shattered by the sounds of gunshots raining across the forest. Darkness shrouded the old and young women that dashed across the trees venturing away from the torches pursuing them. They prayed in fear hearing footsteps behind them. Their belief was not in a God but a separate faith, to protect them like armour from the wrath of others. Many struggled to breathe as their steps faltered with each foot placed forward but none had stopped, as death lurked around the corner. A shriek erupted loudly amid the woods halting them in their tracks. The sight of a girl lay sprawled on the bloodied snow clutching onto her wounded leg, which was seen by the women but they didn’t hesitate to leave. Many shots had missed landing upon the trees, branches or ground yet such misfortune was placed onto the crying girl. Her fate in the eyes of many was sealed. Torches came closer shedding away the twilight that shielded the group and in fear they ran, except for one.

“Let go she’s my younger sister, Bela!” Her yell was only a whisper in the deep woods amidst the many shouts and musket shots.

Others had gripped onto her limbs, pulling the girl back further away from the blazing light that shone in the forest. Mourning was all she could do, eyes bare to the sight of her sister's fate. Bela shouted out to the men, begging for her sister hoping to be saved but no one came except for barbarians that wanted to commit murder. Marching footsteps no longer afar as the faces of men were shown through the flickering flames they held.

“Test if she is a witch men," said a man donning black and white holding a bible proudly.

The escaping women could only be bystanders to the death of Bela. Men grappled with the girl who had tears and snot running down her face. She called again, "Alice save me... hic hic l don't want to die." Surrounded by scorching torches, Bela was carried near a lake only metres away from the woods and watched by her fellow sisters. Thrown into the lake, her blood flowed together with the water as she swam up for air gasping as she reached the surface.

“Fool," a witch called upon the sight of the girl who was floating in the lake, as she should have swum down pretending to sink.

“Please let go of me, she’s my only family left! dammit, she’s only eleven." Alice had eyes pleading for support but in search, there were none generous enough to sacrifice either her or their life. Many wanted to run than stand and watch someone die, but the women respected the sacred tradition older than life. It was to be the witnesses of death. They watched the named witch Bela be carried out of the water dripping wet as she sneezed from the cold waters that drenched her brunette hair. Dark brown matching the deep colour of oak yet now It was soaked leaving a trail of water as she was dragged to follow the men. It is not that the witches didn’t want to help but couldn’t, as each to their testament, bled at the sight of one of their sisters dying. Some of them dug nails into their palms, others biting on lips as they saw a fellow sister witch about to be hung. Tightening the noose around the still sneezing Bela she trembled in horror, skin pale as she knew what was about to happen. She had peed herself and now her leg was soaked with blood and her own urine.

“Please l don’t want to die," Bela asked but she had no audience amongst these men and slowly ignoring her pleads they pulled the rope up high, tying it against a tree branch.

A hand reached out in the woods for Bela metres away yet she could not grab onto her hand no matter how much she wanted to. They spoke of it being too late but Alice’s sister was still alive begging till she grabbed onto her noose unable to breathe kicking in the air to escape. The noose gripped fiercely onto Bela’s neck choking her windpipe. She tossed around attempting to breathe but every second that passed she grew ever so closer to the grim reaper's door. Her face went from flushed, pale to blue then she hung lightly swinging with hair flowing with the cold air. Men celebrated the death of a witch, laughing as if it were entertainment.

“Men leave this witch here to teach the others who wish to practise witchcraft ... that this is the punishment!” The priest shouted these words fiercely preaching to all that listened, he a man of Jesus who was said to love all spat words of sin. His finger shook as he pointed at the dead girl that hung motionless. He spoke words of justice deeming these demonic witches as followers of satan.

“The hunt must go on." None questioned his reasoning, all believing the man to be instilled with the wisdom of God. The witches instead saw eyes of insanity no longer capable of reasoning, so they ran. Sprinting to the far west of the woods escaping the burning torches. They discovered a cave and their breathing was still heavy but had calmed down. Chests heaving up and down trying to regain their stamina, they rested within the meeting of witches. Hidden to men in the lands of nature, were fifteen women of different ages many originating from poverty. They spoke arguing for their next actions, some grieved over their lost ones whilst many had the gaze of vengeance that lurked within their souls. Once strong holding thirty witches, now dwindled to nearly half and gone were the elders powerful in the ways of nature most being slain or now in hiding. Few came out to fight against these men of muskets or swords. The ways of witchcraft seemed to be at its end after the numerous witch hunts.

“ORDER!” The last witch of power amongst these women said, her voice echoing within the cave. Grey hair that was dirtier than the other witches who had crawled through dirt and snow. She maintained an aura of power making all yield to her gaze. A staff that was older than many that sat in the meeting, she grasped onto it with shaking hands. The cold had killed many of the witches but it would be an enemy to the men that hunted as well. Her legs were straight, ignorant of the cold, unaffected standing tall to show dignity, unlike the rest that sat on the verge of losing consciousness.

“We must not run any longer." This sentence brought shock as the witches faces’ turned to dread. One stood up then another until all except for Alice, the young lady that had lost her sister Bela.

“Are you insane Beatrice?” A witch spoke pointing at the elder witch of power. Her finger had lost all warmth as it trembled stiffly in her direction.

“We must fight or we will all die like mutts." Her words were painted ludicrous, as they remembered the powerful witches that had fought for their escape. It was a war filled with death yet the men kept marching forward, reinforced with muskets unleashing their destruction as swords cleaved through bodies. Some had collapsed in fear but some shook standing in remembrance of friends or family that died and the statement sparked a burning spirit that blazed brighter than any torch the men held.

“I will fight." A witch spoke timidly but her body said otherwise confident in her judgement. Others joined and the table had turned as many wanted to go to war.

The first witch that had asked if Beatrice was insane, was lost in confusion. She tried rallying for support, reasoning that this was blasphemy, that they would die fighting. Beatrice had a calm gaze and she confronted the witch with a speech that shook her to the core.

“If we must die fighting then we shall, half of our sisters have died running and many more will die one by one alone. Do you ask of us to watch more of our sisters be hung like young Bela? You do not have to fight but let me ask you, will you die like our proud sisters have before us or live as a coward watching everyone around you face death?”

She was left speechless, unable to say anything and in turn, sighed. Her mind told otherwise but her heart spoke the truth as she followed it. “I will die proudly."

Beatrice smiled at the answer and grasped behind her fellow sister's head touching foreheads gently. She shared her warmth and will. Her eyes shone with determination in the darkness guiding the rest. Alice had her blonde hair hiding her expression. She had just watched her sister Bela die and grieved, blaming herself for the instance. Alice alone believed she was at fault if she was only closer to her maybe she could have grabbed onto Bela running away. These thoughts only ran wild, spiralling down to self-hatred. Dirty nails dug into her forearms as Alice's face contorted into many expressions of anger to anguish. Blood was drawn from her nails and it slowly dried from the cold, staining skin. Rocking from side to side, she huddled her legs close to her chest. Alice could hear the other witches either sobbing or arguing viciously and then silence as they came to an agreement. It did not matter to her but unbeknownst to Alice would be a role that would burden any soul, crushing them with its weight.

“Who is the youngest sister here?” Beatrice asked curiously and everyone near Alice stepped aside gazing at the weeping lady. They felt sympathetic for her, as she was forced to watch her younger sister die unable to do anything. Beatrice strode forwards and pulled Alice up, brushing away the blonde hair that was golden in colour to the side. She swept away the tears that masked her beautiful face gently and asked the youth a question.

“How old are you?”

She replied with tears that had left her cheeks wet. Golden hair that gently followed the wind coming from outside the cave. “Sixteen, elder sister."

“Now dear, you must answer this question faithfully and not lie."

Alice nodded her head yet the question she received still left her gasping at a time such as this.

“Have you slept with a man yet?”

“Ahh.. sister Beatrice must l answer that?” Alice unprepared for a question like this stumbled with her words, blushing deeply.

“Yes" she replied losing patience

“I haven’t… but how is this related to anything," Alice asked still confused.

“We will perform a ritual to form a world that may hide you away from danger. For this, to work a virgin must be the target for it to be a success. You will be the last of us to remember witchcraft if we shall all fail. Inheritor of our knowledge, strength and wisdom, that will be you from now on Alice. Now, sister are you willing to sacrifice yourself for eternal life, as long as you capture the souls of the men that have killed our sisters, your sister."

Alice had never felt such pressure be placed upon her as all the sister’s gazed at her. Some with jealously regretting to share the company of another at night, it was an opportunity of immortality as long as you reap the souls of others. Alice felt her voice be clogged, as words tried to come out but the memory of her young sister’s death burned deep into her soul and Alice spoke once more.

“Can’t l be allowed to fight sister Beatrice?” Given the chance for eternal youth she still wished for immediate revenge.

“No you are the youngest of us and the spell will not work on anyone else except for you." Her gaze swept across the other witches all above the age of twenty, that had all definitely felt the warmth of a man or woman in bed.

“Ok,'' Alice breathed out accepting her destiny.

“Then the ritual shall begin." They interlocked hands as Alice stood in the middle of the circle of witches that spoke incantations. She stood alone watching as she wished for forgiveness from Bela for not saving her. Beatrice spoke the last words reciting an old powerful spell that shook reality and space as a world hidden to all was created within a cave. The winds blew heavier into the cave as the snow fell harder upon the woods. The men of the town still in search could not find the witches as they were no longer in the woods but in their own world created through the last known powers of witchcraft. Beatrice fainted collapsing to her knees gripping onto her staff for support. The nearby witches helped her to her feet as each one felt weak.

“It is completed. The connection in the cave is a spiritual one, where the further you venture forward into the cave, you will return to the outside world smaller in size and invisible to the mortal eye. To undo the effect you must enter it once again. Sister Alice, you are immortal so long as you gain the life of others and you must stay within the forest. This place will be where you shall dwell concealed by the magic of us witches." Beatrice placed major emphasis on Alice not leaving the forest but spoke gleefully at the achievement of pulling such powerful magic off, wiping droplets of sweat that rested above her eyebrows away.

She grandly spread her hands out showing off the last remnants of witchcraft. The trees outside the cave seemed gigantic unparalleled to any other. This world seemed mystical now but in reality, they had been shrunk down to the size of ants. White was all that could be seen outside the dark cave with their gazes and slowly sister Beatrice walked away from the ritual area. She walked deeper into the cave returning to the realm of reality where she would be normal in size.

“Sister Beatrice where are you going?”

Beatrice looked upon the small girl shivering in fear grabbing onto anything to rely on. She must become independent the witch thought, thinking only time will tell if she will survive. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder resting it and spoke with dignity.

“We must leave whilst you stay here."

“But can’t you stay here as well?”

“Sister we may hide here with you, but food will run out and the search for us will never end. It will draw attention if all of us stay here, do not worry Alice. You shan’t be alone if you remember us, we will always be beside your heart. Have faith in us and we shall come back to celebrate our glorious return." Beatrice placed her hand near Alice's heart cackling with laughter as she spoke confidently.

“..Yes, sister." Alice looked down at her feet admonished at being left by the group unable to fight with them, the cries of her younger sister still rang in her ears. Her hair was still a mess hiding the true beauty of pure gold and was gently caressed as witch Breatice ran her hand through it.

“Sister Alice when l come back you must keep your blonde hair straight and clean." She smiled with the warmth of the sun, blocking the cold that surrounded them.

They walked with straight backs keeping their chins up in the darkness travelling back to the normal world. Tired and exhausted Alice slept dreaming of her fellow sisters return. The next morning came about with the icicles hanging above the cave’s entrance gradually melting. Droplets of water fell onto the cold stone floor awakening a lady from her slumber. Light entered the abode of Alice, whilst the sun rose high above the clouds watching all. Crawling outside, scared at being stepped on as she was minuscule in this large world, she was met with the shining rays blinding her. Covering her eyes with cold hands, in between her fingers she could see white clothing fluttering above in the sky. It flew past the woods and Alice looked across, meeting a sight of death. Trails of blood and bodies showing a path that led outside the woods. She rushed back into the cave to return to normal size abandoning her camouflage. Sisters with holes in their bodies, coldly being preserved the way they had died. Limbs stiff as Alice tried moving them, none were alive. She vomited as the smell rushed to her nose. The smell of gunpowder and the aroma of defecation lingered. Closing each sister’s eyelids and praying for their souls, she looked at the path following it. Her sisters were laid upon a podium, six naked with open wounds. Alice tried stepping outside the forest but pain flashed through her mind almost causing her to faint. In realisation, she understood her body was bound to the forest remembering Beatrice’s words 'You must stay within the forest'.

She was trapped here only to watch again as her fellow witches died. They shouted curses and atrocities insulting the men but they only grinned awaiting the witches timely deaths. They bled from head to toe in the cold wind that blew snow upon their naked bodies, as rocks were thrown at them and soon they were dragged near the woods. Alice wished to save them but she was petrified, legs shaking as her eyes met with Beatrice. Beatrice simply shook her head and smiled understanding her fate. The witches were about to be hung but Beatrice shouted at the top of her lungs at the men saying she would be cursing them and their family making them regret that their mothers had given birth to such mutts. She spoke a speech not for herself or the cruel men with sinister smiles but for the witches by her side that had fought with her valiantly and the young Alice that could only see and hear. Beatrice wanted to show how bright a star could shine before it could be extinguished and she shone brighter than the sun with her words of truth.

“The sun today will be the judge of you men, burning you and your sins, as the wind will sweep away the ashes of you fools. We witches pray to mother nature and she shall save us, as our souls are pure gold unable to rust."

Finishing her speech the nooses were raised up, choking all the witches. Their faces became pale turning blue, just as Bela had and their eyes flickered between the mortal realm and death. Seconds of fumbling around in the air turned to minutes of silence. There they laid as Alice witnessed their deaths, swearing vengeance on these men so long they enter these woods. What she observed next though was magical, as her eyes followed all six sister's souls that floated away towards the cave. She could feel warmth entering her body and unknown power surge within her veins like electricity pulsing rapidly throughout her. Beatrice had not lied when she would not be alone. She could sense the souls changing within the forest almost reincarnating into something intangible. Their souls bonded with the ground, wind and streams of water blending to one. Alice would reap all the men that stood here today of their souls and in return avenge her sisters. She promised rivers of blood, soil stained red and the trees painted crimson as she stood alone within the dark woods seething in rage where a hidden world lay behind her.