"We have to do something!" one man cries, with a chorus of agreement.
"Find her and burn her!" a woman shouts, accompanied by cheering from her audience.
"And how do you suppose we go about finding her? Persecute anyone showing too much affection for their broom?"
"Well if she weighs as much as a duck-"
"A duck?! You've been addled by the witch already, if you believe that!"
And on it goes at the town meeting. The crowd is unruly, completely ignoring the mayor and the sheriff standing on the stage. The sun has already set, and most everyone has a torch in hand. They're just aching to burn something, or, more accurately, someone. It couldn't be anything but a witch at this point. Not after all the hardship our quaint little village has been through over the past few months. Half the night slips past us in our arguing. Dozens of ideas area thrown around and debated and inevitably shot down.
"Enough!" an exceptionally loud man calls from the throng. "Her hour approaches, and we haven't decided on anything! Let us all sleep this night and think more of what to do about her on the 'morrow."
"And what if she were to escape in the night? That witch is probably here right now, among us! She knows that the whole village is against her, and we will find her if she stays!"
"We should be that fortunate. If the witch leaves, whoever it is, their absence will be noted. She can't be having that. Rest easy that should anyone leave this town, then they are likely our witch."
Low murmurs of reluctant agreement spread through the crowd, and the people begin to dissipate. I, too, shuffle home with the hopes that our plague will end soon. A good rest will be good to clear our minds. I fear what would happen if our bickering devolved into violence and wild accusations.
Relieved to be home and safe, I grab a small lantern to help navigate the darkness and being dragging my feet toward my bed, ready to fall asleep on the way there. I throw open the door to my chambers, and too late realize there is something wrong. The floor almost seemed to be moving.
Maybe if I hadn't been so tired, and I was thinking more clearly.
Maybe if I had raised the lantern a little sooner, to observe further into the room.
Maybe if I had closed that door behind me, when I had run away from thousands of little red eyes.
Maybe, if I had bothered to buy another second of time when I ran away, I could look for another way out.
But I didn't do any of that. And I realized all of it far too late. I ran to my front door was, only to find that I no longer had one.
I clawed and scratched at the wood until my fingers bled, feeling the rats stare as they watched my pitiful attempt. Resigned and broken, I slump to the floor with my back to where my door once was, and the lantern revealed something else to me. Among the rats, there stood a figure in a dark cloak. Under the hood, all I could see was a devilish smile.
"Leave the eyes and the tongue," the smile said. "I can use those."
