The steps were getting closer and closer to the place where Jonah and the witch were. The poor boy was shaking with fear. The idea of being burned in a stake did not appeal to him. After so much struggle and suffering, to die in this way was merciless and unjust.
The witch seemed to wait anxiously for the moment of his death. Her yellowish eyes longed for the moment when her bones would be consumed by fire. The closer one heard the footsteps, the greater became her diabolic smile.
Soon one could hear the cracking of the lock, which was beginning to be opened. Behind the door, a thin, poorly dressed man appeared. He seemed to have gone for days without eating. He approached the witch with feigned security, as the woman's hands were tied. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out. The witch was smiling the whole time. If you looked at her carefully, in her bright eyes, you could see joy.
"I hope you don't get too comfortable, a monster. You'll be next," the man said with a mocking smile to Jonah, who looked languidly at what was happening.
Lying in the corner of the dungeon, Jonah waited patiently for his turn, his turn to die. He felt empty, rejected, sad. Even if he died that day, he would not be missed. His presence in the world would soon be replaced. He wept, he cried bitterly, for the mistreatment received, for his deformity, for his destiny, but more than anything else, he cried for Alma, his soul.
Again the opportunity to take his sister out of hell was slipping away from him. If God really existed because he allowed his life to be full of pain and misfortunes. He needed something good, a sign from heaven to tell him that he was not alone.
Those thoughts were interrupted by horrific screams coming from outside. Jonah was sure that it was the witch; her torture had begun. The people outside were shouting. Apparently, the witches had been causing pain and suffering to the inhabitants of that town for years, so every witch killed was a party.
Suddenly the noise and laughter stopped. Only cries of despair could be heard. Something was happening outside, something terrible.
It was beginning to dawn, and Jonah was already looking like a helpless child with golden curls. Unfortunately, at that very moment, appearance would not help him. Outside you could still hear the cries for help, but out of nowhere, they stopped. Everything was in deep silence.
Bewildered, Jonah waited for the skinny man to come for him or for someone to come and rescue him.
"Help, help. I am an innocent child. A witch has locked me in here. Help me! Help me!" Jonah cried out until he was tired, but no one went to help him.
Thick gray smoke began to enter the windows. It seemed to have a life of its own, as it headed right for where Jonah was. After a few minutes of breathing that smoke, the poor boy was knocked out.
A couple of hours after he passed out, Jonah woke up under a tree. Ceaseless cries of anguish made him regain consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he couldn't believe his eyes. The ground was covered with corpses, whose inert faces were horribly grimacing.
"It seems that the last witch we murdered cast a spell over her body. The smoke from her body as it burned, killed them all. You were going to die too if I didn't get you out of that cell. Said a man who approached Jonah to help him get up from the ground.
"That's why she looked so happy and calm, even though she knew she was going to die," Jonas whispered.
"What did you say, child? Did you know that witch?" the man asked angrily.
"Of course not. She was the one who locked me in that cell. I don't know why she did something like that." Jonah was quick to say. He couldn't let people realize that he was a monster too. If before the people of that town hated witches, after that massacre, it would be impossible to describe in words the repulsion they must now feel.
The villagers succeeded in killing that witch, but she left a trail of suffering and sorrow in her wake. Pain that would never be appeased, even if in revenge, they killed all the witches of the world.
"He, he, he. Thank goodness, because if you were linked to that witch, we would have to kill you slowly and painfully."
"No, sir. I've just been one more of her victims," said Jonah nervously.
"You don't have to be nervous, kid, I believe you. Although it's strange that being such a small town I've never seen you before. I think we'll have to kill you." Exclaimed the man, clutching Jonah's arm tightly.
"No, no. Of course not, sir. I am lost, that witch kidnapped me at night, while my parents were asleep.
"Ha, ha, ha. You're so innocent, little boy. I'll help you find your house. And don't worry. I was kidding. At times like this, you have to look on the bright side of life. Many people died, yes, but I wasn't one of them. Ha, ha, ha. I'm happy, happy."
Jonah looked incredulously and with a forced smile at that man with such a strange personality. We must indeed look for the positive side of bad experiences. However, how could he laugh? He was surrounded by corpses. That man was definitely crazy.
"Come on, smile, smile, boy. Life is too short to be bitter." The man said to Jonah as he was giving him a few blows on his back.
Jonah was very scared, that man was so strange. He did not seem to be happy. All the signs indicated that he was insane. Although there was a big smile on his face, when looking into his eyes, it was impossible not to notice a terrible sorrow.