Elspeth haunts me. At night, I hear her ankle chains scrape along the floorboards towards the bedroom I share with my new bride. She’s getting closer, with her bloated body now splattering water on the rug around our bed. Last night, I took to drink in the hope of not remembering her visit. This morning my new love lay dead beside me; wet footsteps led to her side of the bed. I may have married Elspeth for her money and not defended her when accused of sorcery, but never had I suspected her of truly being a witch—until now.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Free Gift with Purchase by Sara Kate Egan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Last Judgement by Jeff Currier"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="My Mind by Drabbler Dan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Things We Fight For by Liam Hogan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>