by Warren Benedetto
“Everything you think you know about witches is wrong,” Selena sobbed. She struggled against the ropes binding her to the pole.
Father Hugo stuffed kindling under the logs at her feet. He cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “Everything?”
“Everything,” Selena insisted.
Father Hugo lit a match.
Suddenly, Selena’s face elongated into a long black beak. Feathers sprouted as massive wings unfolded from her back.
Her raven form lunged, driving her beak straight through Father Hugo’s face.
As Selena returned to her human shape, she wiped the blood from her mouth.
“Okay, maybe not everything.”