The Great Grate Witch

A Story by Nick Trusiak

A grey mist settled over the mountaintops. The air was cool and damp, and a slight drizzle fell from the clouds. It was quiet, the only thing to be heard was the occasional howl of wind, or wolves, which ever one you could make out. Amidst all the mist and cloud and howl of wind and wolves lies the small town of Grate. The town is located in a valley in the North of New Hampshire, with a population of approximately 600 people. The people of Grate are a hardy folk, friendly to the people who rarely passed through town. They were hard workers, and they all shared something, something that no stranger would ever know about by just passing through.

It all started in 1698, when the Europeans were in the midst of colonizing North America. Of all the towns established in that time, there was one with a story so horrifying that it would last the ages. The town was St. Collins. It seemed like a happy little town at first, but all of that soon changed when the Bell family arrived to settle in the town of St. Collins. The Bell's were from Andover, a small town in the county of Hampshire, and they came to the New World because they wanted a fresh start, in a fresh town of course, so everyone believed. The real reason why they decided to settle in St. Collins was because the Bell family had a very unorthodox background that did not sit well with the local inhabitants of Andover. Witchcraft. It was Susan Bell, who brought this frowned upon practice into the life of William Bell, a good Catholic man who seemed to be inculcated by Susan. They married in 1694, and four years later had a child, a girl named Clarice. They were happy for awhile, but that all soon came to an end when the town started noticing the ways of Mrs. Bell.

The whole town gathered with weapons and fire in front of the Bell household, yelling "Be gone witch, be gone". The Bell's remained in the household in fear, taking cover under their dining table, as rocks and debris came hurling through their front windows. After an hour of bashing, screaming and witnessing their own home being destroyed before their very own eyes, William decided to go out and make a truce, in fear that the insurgents would enter their home and harm little Clarice, who was only 2 years old at the time. The townsfolk and William finally came to an agreement, that the Bells would leave Andover and never return, no matter what the circumstances were. Their house was to also be burned down, due to the unholy presence it developed. The Bells were all packed and on a ship the following day.

The Bell's thought that their unholy reputation wouldn't have followed them to the New World, but fate had already set its course. They lived on for 10 years in peace, but after a while the inhabitants of St. Collins were becoming very suspicious of the Bell family. It all came to a gruesome end when Susan and William were caught conducting a séance in the basement of their home, when one of the neighbours came by to drop off a bucket of potatoes. The authorities were immediately informed, and soon arrested Susan and William. Clarice watched as the authorities dragged her mother off, her nails grating on the cement floor of the basement, for she was fighting back, not wanting to leave her only child. The screeching noise would haunt her for the rest of her life. They were tried, and were soon found guilty of Witchcraft, their sentence being the penalty of death. Young Clarice watched as her mother and father were hung, and soon realized that she had nothing left, except for the skill that was taught by her deceased parents. In a hopeless despair, she vanished, vanished into the forests that surrounded the Town of Grate. Nobody knew what had become of young Clarice, until a decade later when inhabitants who ventured into the woods of St. Collins started to mysteriously disappear.

Some say that the bears got them, others say that it was Clarice, the girl who vanished years ago and was driven to madness, who was responsible for the disappearances. Many reported hearing the sound of grating on wood before hearing the shrieks of travellers in the woods. A dark shadow settled over the town of St. Collins, and folk started coming and going. The name of St. Collins was eventually lost, and the town adopted the name Grate sometime in the late 17th century.

Alan Keegor sat quietly in his chair, which was perched on a small cliff overlooking the vast vistas of forest that covered most of Northern New Hampshire. To his right, under a thick cloud of mist, he overlooked the centermost part of Grate, which consisted of little shops and restaurants, where most of the population dwelled, except for those who had homes away from town, mostly cottages for hunters who needed a place to stay. Alan had a little cabin on the peak of a large hill that neighboured the town of Grate. He used it for summer, fall and spring, for he was a hunter and enjoyed hunting in the forests that surrounded Grate. He seldom heard the tales of the Witch who dwelt in the woods of Grate, but he paid little to no attention, mostly because he thought most of it was a myth.

He got up from his chair, and went back into his cabin to fetch another bottle of beer. He had just returned from a long day of hunting, and was winding down with his trusty German Shepherd, York, who aided Alan in the pursuit of certain animals. He fetched his bottle and came back to his chair. He soon realized that the breeze was a little too intense and cool, so he decided to move next to a large tree that was facing a road that led down the mountain. He picked up his seat and set it to the left of the tree, and sat down. He yawned. He was exhausted, and decided to take a small nap. He dozed off into a dreamy world and was soon sound asleep.

He awakened, slightly, and as he opened his eyes slowly he caught a glimpse of something on the road. What he saw looked like a figure whose feet weren't touching the ground, and whatever it was, was staring right at him. As he tried to figure out what it was in his half awakened state, he faintly heard the noise of something being chafed, but ignored the whole vision, coming to the conclusion that he was dreaming. He ignored it and slowly dozed off once again.

He awakened suddenly to a loud grinding noise, this time being fully aware of his surroundings, and what he saw terrified him to the point of not being able to move. He realized that what he thought he dreamed of before, was reality. In front of him was a woman, a very old woman, who had hair all over her body, barely any skin could be seen. He gazed down and realized that her feet weren't touching the ground. The smell in the air was foul, so foul that it made poor Alan gag. But the thing that made Alan the most terrified was the sound. The old woman was grating her fingers on the tree next to him, and the noise was deafening, to the point where Alan couldn't even hear himself breathe. With an attempt, he tried letting out a yell, but was soon overwhelmed with darkness, a darkness so thick and black that it knocked him back and suffocated him. No one knows what happened to poor Alan, even his dog vanished and was nowhere to be seen.

Some may call it myth, some may call it fact, but whatever you believe you know that the woods surrounding Grate must be respected, for they are the sanctuary of Clarice Bell, the Great Witch, the last of the Bell bloodline. There is an old saying here in the town of Grate, an old message that would warn travellers of the dangers of the Forests of Grate, a message still used to this very day, a message that will never be forgotten "For those who seek refuge in Grate, must all be warned about the Great, she's here, she's there, she isn't fair, so always, always be aware. She is the queen of the wood, so stop and turn around if you could. She is the greatest Witch of them all, so beware, beware of the Great Grate Witch."