Visions in Flames

Riverwitch

I remember her, the River Witch; living on the banks of the Yazoo River in a little shack. The old folks called her a conjurer; they said she had made a pact with the devil’s son. She spoke with the dead; never healing the sick, only cursing the strong.

My aunt Cecily went to her once, tears streaming down her face begging for revenge. My papa said she had gotten herself in a bad way. She went to the River Witch and within a week all was well. Aunt Cecily walking around like a puffed hen.

The fishermen steered clear of her banks. They told stories of the River Witch having lines in the water; not for fish but for men. The town had learned to live with her on the banks, she asked for only one thing: men. Our fishers sent the foreigners to her banks. It was better if we sent those we did not know to her.

Twenty years our town sent the foreign fishers to her, but it was not enough. The River Witch got greedy; demanding more and more. The Government down in Jackson started to notice the disappearance of the foreign fishers. The sent an Official who called himself Agent- part of the MBI he said. He flashed a warrant, demanding he search the town. Last place the foreign fishers had been seen. My own papa pointed to the little shack on the bank of the Yazoo, to the River Witch. Agent spoke with her, explained the warrant. He wanted to look around, she did not care. She didn’t think she would have trouble; after all, we were afraid of her. I suppose she thought that everyone in Mississippi was afraid of her.

The Agent found piles of bones in her little shack, piles next to the witch’s bone mill. He stumbled back only slightly and turned to the witch. He spoke only one word: Prison. The River Witch grinned her toothless grin; still thinking that fear would protect her. But instead of turning and leaving, the Agent spoke another word: hanging.

That River Witch shrieked and it was as if Hell had opened and all the demons had screamed. She ran past the Agent, a rush of muddy wind. The Agent chased her through the surrounding swamp; thorn bushes, gators, and the water snakes nipping at the Agent but stepping aside for her. I had followed them, stepping carefully to avoid the dangers of the swamp. Soon, the Agent lost sight of the River Witch; but he would not give up. He continued walking through the swamp, pace slowing and eyes sweeping side to side; the swamp sucking at his boots.

As I followed the Agent, we found her mired in the muck just inside the edge of the Hallowed Swamp; the part of the swamp that had always been angry at her, the mud and muck dragging her under. The Agent tried to help her, offering to pull her out. It may have been spite or it may have been the demons of Hell calling her home, but she refused the help. With her last breath, she cursed the town.

In 20 years time, she would rise from the swamp and bring fire and destruction to us for betraying her. Days after she sank beneath the mud and muck, we pulled her body out. We buried her in the churchyard, not to ensure her soul’s journey to Heaven; but to trap her spirit. We saw how the Hallowed Swamp had defended the town and killed her; we hoped the hallowed ground of the churchyard would continue that defense and not allow her to come for us. Chains were placed around her grave, an iron gate to help with that defense. The chains were blessed by the Reverend.

I was 10 when the River Witch died cursing our town. I had become obsessed with her, checking the chains every year for signs. Today is the 20th anniversary of her curse; I have gone to the church this morning as I have done every year. But the chains had been pulled apart as if they were made of paper. As I looked up to the church, a small fire had begun in the steeple, I ran to the fire station as fast as I could.

It was too late when we arrived back at the church; it was already engulfed in flames. The fire spread through the town quickly. We could not put the fires out fast enough and soon the entire town was in flames.

The River Witch has had her revenge, the town has been destroyed. But I sit here and wonder, is this enough for her? Will she rest peacefully? The town had not been fully destroyed, her vengeance had not been completed. I believe that we need to replace the chains, just in case.