So You Think You Can Write
The So You Think You Can Write contest took place in June of 2017 to find permanent backstories for the roles released with the Town of Salem Coven Expansion. This contest was inspired by the Summer Solstice Writing Event which took place in June of 2015.


1st Place - Parallax7

It was a cold room, distant from the rest of the world. Cigar smoke abundant in the air, the translucent substance masking two figures sitting across from one another. "You seek me, and you have found me, what's more, before I could find you. I'm rather impressed." Vocalized an Italian man, puffing on a cigar, he drew it down to an ashtray, and relieved it of its duties. It had fulfilled its purpose; much like every goon and mafioso in the past had for him. "I was unsure to who else I could seek. Truth is," the figure smiles menacingly, "When I broke out, my urge to kill was too much for me to control. Who better than The Godfather?" Mused a raspy voice, the smile enduring through the comment. Utter silence filled the room, and the smoke began to dissipate. The Godfather rolls his tongue around in his mouth before speaking rest assuringly, "Very well Mr. Serial Killer, I'm a family man. I'll take care of you, but in return I ask of one thing." The Serial Killer's smile widened, "Oh?" He asked faintly, "That you treat this family, as they are, family, more so than even your own, capisce?" Replied the man across from him, a serious look on his face. The Serial Killer shrugged, "My family died, I killed them, but I can assure you that won't happen. So long, you keep me... "Occupied."" Said the Serial Killer in return.

A grim smirk formed across The Godfather's face, and he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table between the two; placing a cigar in his mouth, and lighting it, the male spoke, though gibberish in sounding, still audible, "I have the perfect place for you, my friend," he continued on, shifting the cigar away from his lips, "and I think you will fulfill its purpose rather well." The words echoed in the back of the Serial Killer's mind, as he leaped from the bushes tackling a nosy Lookout, digging his knife into the unsuspecting victims chest countless times. A crazed look filled the murderer's eyes, as he laughed admiring his victim's demise. The Godfather watched from afar, a satisfied grin on his face. "Only those who admire you from a distance will know, my sweet Ambusher."

2nd Place - MCRBroDJ

The new recruit ran along the streets, filled with a mix of excitement and fear. There was only the moonlight to guide him, but he was used to that by now. He finally arrived at the small house that he was told to meet at. It was a meeting of the Mafia. He was a little nervous, although he felt he had no need to be. After all, the Mafia were the only people in his life he could consider family.

He never knew his real parents. He lived in the forest on his own for twenty years. And those years alone turned him into the hunter he was today. He was strong, quick, silent, and much more. When the Mafia found him, they took him in, and trained him to become a killer. And now was the time he contributed to a better future for him and his new family. He didn't want to mess this up and live through more years alone. He would do anything to secure the respect of the Mafia.

When he entered the house, the Godfather was sitting in a chair behind a long desk. Two others were in the house. The Godfather introduced them all, then got down to business. He started talking with the other men, so the recruit's thoughts wandered. He remembered a lot of tactics he used when he was a hunter, such as, if he found a lone baby animal, he'd often hide nearby, so he could ambush and kill the larger mother. And can call it chance or fate...he suddenly overheard something from the Godfather's discussion. "...can't kill him when that guy protecting him, and who knows who that is..."

That's when he had an idea.

"Give me a night. I'll get this 'protector' killed in no time."

3rd Place - [REDACTED]

This user has requested for their story to be removed.

Coven Leader

1st Place - EmmysAMonster

I've always had... strange powers. I've never known why. Ever since I could remember, maybe my mom dropped me as a child or something, but I've always had something... "quirky" about me. When I was a child, odd little quirks would occur. Like things falling from where they were hung, ancient chanting faintly whispered. Things you, couldn't explain. Although the one thing that had always been known, and never changed. My eyes were very alluring. I could, control things, see into their thoughts, get them to do whatever I wanted. It was like I was a ghost. A ghost who could watch your every move, grinning behind you, making you do things against your will. I guess it didn’t help with how mischievous I was all the time. Pulling pranks, stirring up dark things. Then, I snapped though. Something… changed. I went into a much darker tone, more analytical, and more… sinister.

Perhaps it’s when I met a woman in the streets, selling items that swirled in a glass vial, then being rejected. Perhaps it’s when I saw a young girl, being attacked, to only turn the attackers to stone. Perhaps, it was when I saw a man poison his lover in cold blood. Maybe it was when I saw a dark shadow slowly bring the dead to life, to use to kill a man. Or maybe it was when I was struggling to even live. Whatever might have been the trigger, that’s when my life turned to what I do now. Controlling people. At first, it was only to live, to strive. Then, it became an addiction, as I used it for more sadistic use...

Perhaps that was the turning point. finally, I decided to... stir something up. Those “rejects” I saw on the streets, scraping by like me. Maybe, just maybe, we could live together in comfort. Making everyone live like we did. So, I created the coven, Salem was always a troublesome place. Why not have some fun?

2nd Place - AzuraSilverflame

The Coven Leader sat on a stump in the woods, waiting for her newly recruited Coven. She mindlessly twirled a finger around, letting the leaves around her swirl in a kind of dance. Smiling as she heard the footsteps of several people coming her way, she got up from her stump and went to greet them. They were the magical ones, the ones gifted with powers that no one understood. In the corner stood the Potion Master, tinkering with her newly mixed potions, and beside her, her apprentice, the Poisoner, was slowly brewing a new odorless potion. A sense of pride filled her as she watched the rest of the Coven, the Necromancer, Medusa, and the Hex Master look at her eagerly.

“Tonight we will have our revenge.” the Coven Leader promised, her voice rich with longing, “The Town will pay for how they have treated us.” A murmuring of agreement rose from the Coven, as they stared at the Coven Leader as if she was their savior. The Coven Leader closed her eyes, feeling a rush of power. “We will be the Coven that strikes fear into the Town’s hearts every night. Every day they will find traces of us, not knowing what will happen next. And this starts, tonight.” the Coven Leader continued. A silent cheer rose, and as quickly and silent as snakes, the Coven slipped into the dark, eager to cause chaos within the Town.

The Coven Leader let the same magic she had tried to hide for years flow through her body. She felt even more powerful than ever. She led the group of the strangest, most powerful citizens of the town. The Town would be begging for mercy at her feet before long.

3rd Place - randompersonnumber3

She had been small when she found her first spell book. Maybe a child of about ten or so. But from that she grew. She learned how to control people and drain them of their life essence. She had become powerful! And if she wanted the ultimate power, she would have to get the Necronomicon. To do that… she would have to get powerful underlings.

Together they would make this town quake with fear. Hexes, poisons, potions, the dead themselves… all would be her tools. Once they had been gathered she looked over the coven and a smirk spread across her lips. “Sisters, brothers, together we will make this town afraid and rule!” She announced to cheers and and applause. “We will no longer practice our black magic in secret. We will do it in the open, and any that oppose us…” She snapped her finger, burning a candle to the waxy nub, “Will die!”

Suddenly a twig snapped and they all turned. A poor investigator had stumbled across them. She snapped her fingers and Medusa slithered towards him. He didn’t have time to scream. The Coven Leader shivered. She had ordered the man to die, and the power was intoxicating. Maybe the town didn’t need to live anyways.


1st Place - SplashyDuck

Until a few nights ago, the Crusader was always willing to sacrifice his life for that of another townie. It was a noble deed, and it was the Bodyguard's job. But one night, while on guard, it occurred to him that if he just shot the visitor before they attacked, he could protect whomever he was supposed to protect, and live! So the Crusader stood, daring anyone to try and attack this house. He was on a mission, not just to protect the owner of this house, but to get rid of all evil in this town. He would save the town, and survive to become a celebrated hero at the end. As he began to think this night would be as uneventful as all the other nights, he heard soft footsteps.

Three clean shots stopped the serial killer’s reign of terror. As the Crusader kicked the body over, knives glinted in the moonlight.

Hearing gunshots from the home he planned to visit, the mafioso, lurking not too far away, turned back home. The Godfather would be angry, but a mad Godfather was better than a dead mafioso.

Morning came, and the joyful Crusader practically skipped to the town square where dead would be announced. As the townies woke up, they stared at each other, observing who was absent. The Mayor called for everyone’s attention as the Sheriff dragged a body out in the middle of the square. It was the serial killer, the one the Crusader had killed last night.

“This townie was killed by a Crusader last night,” the Sheriff stated. The townies pointed to a shabby house, identifying it as the dead person's house. The Sheriff and the Investigator entered the house. The Crusader tensed in anticipation. In a few seconds, they would announce that the serial killer was dead.

It was only when the Sheriff raised his head, his grim demeanor becoming visible, that the Crusader realized he had made a grave mistake. The Investigator held up a box of medicines for the town to see. As the Crusader heard the Investigator’s quietly uttered words, he fell to his knees in shock and horror.

“The doctor was killed last night.”

2nd Place - VioletNightingale

A sliver of light peered out from behind the curtains as the Lookout peered from his window. Across the street, there had been a commotion, and now a man lay dead on the cobblestones. Above the body stood a tall man in full plate armour, wielding a sword. The Lookout hastily retreated behind the curtain as the man sensed movement, and turned to gaze at the Lookout's house.

One could never be too sure who the man they called the Crusader would kill. He never spoke, and never removed his helmet. During the day, he would sheath his sword and listen intently, whilst at night, he would stand as a guard outside whoever requested his services. Last night, it had been the Doctor he had visited, and the Serial Killer he had killed, though the Lookout knew it could have easily been him.

Once, the people had tried to tell the Crusader to take care with whom he visited, but they could tell he never listened. Perhaps he was incapable of changing his ways; a cold and conditioned killer, no one particularly knew why they thought he served the Town when he seemed to do more harm then good.

People only came to the Crusader when they required his services, except the Veteran, who had always known him well. They were the only two who truly understood each other, the only two who had seen battles and felt the pain it caused on the human soul. Both wished to be left alone, but tonight, the Mafia had made a target out of the Crusader.

As he stood on his lone vigil outside the Investigator's house, a member of the Mafia crept up and shot him between his armour plates. The Crusader had never seen him coming.

The following morning, the people of Salem took the body, and as they prepared for the funeral, they removed his helmet for the first time. Finally, the truth was revealed; the reason the Crusader could not see right from wrong was because he could not see at all.

3rd Place - MrSpirare

Shortly after the Witch had founded her own faction, the Coven, the Town was once again in danger and in need of a strong, protective ally. One who wasn't involved in risky shoot-offs like the Bodyguard, but who could still hurt their assailant, unlike the Doctor. That's when a new person arrived to the town, wearing full-body silver armour and wielding a heavy claymore. He was a self-proclaimed divine protector, who was both strong and vigilant. He was said to perform miracles. With no one left to protect him, the Jailor hired the Crusader to watch over him during the nights.

It was a calm, but cold night. The wind carried a light breeze that was loud enough for footsteps to go unheard. This was the perfect weather for murder, however this did not deter the Crusader from his goal. He watched carefully from a distance as the Jailor locked up one of the townies in jail for the night. A few moments later, he had two visitors. The first one said, "Care for a drink?" as she handed him a chalice filled with an oddly-coloured concoction. Before the Jailor could take a sip, the Crusader came out from his hiding spot and sliced the woman's abdomen. She fell to the ground, lifeless. Before the other visitor had a chance to speak, the double-edged sword was thrusted in his direction, killing him.

Morning came and the names and roles of those who were killed by the Crusader had been revealed. The woman was a skilled Potion Master who attempted to poison the Jailor the night before. The man was a Lookout who was simply watching the Jailor that night. It was unfortunate that the Crusader had gotten an innocent townie killed, but what's done was done. As long as the Jailor was alive, it didn't matter who else got involved. For anyone who visited the ones he protected would die by his hands.

Guardian Angel

1st Place - disturbling

"Mama...Mama, where are you?" A young child reaches out through a gap in the rubble of what used to be her home. The area was filled with pungent smoke, and the crying child was covered in ash and soot. "I'm scared..." Her soft voice starts to tremble, and she bites her lip. Small flames dotted the debris and danced in place.

"Another arsonist attack," reports a Sheriff in his heavy Southern accent. "What a shame. A lovely house and family, too." The Investigator he spoke to nodded silently, his gaze wavering around until he caught sight of the helpless child, trapped in place.

"Hold on, there's a child in there!" He broke into a run towards the area, "Get the Doctor! Get anyone! She could be hurt!" The town suddenly bursts to life, scrambling here and there to assist this child, and it was almost equivalent to the chaos that erupts during the daily trials. The girl begins to sob as the Investigator kneels next to her and attempts to pull a wooden beam off of her.

"It's going to be alright, dear, just hold still..." His voice is nothing but indecipherable mumbles to the girl, who instead gazes onward to a strange, glowing ball of light that has descended from the sky before her. The orb soon branches out into a torso, arms, legs, hands--


Her face was beautiful, like an angel, with a rounded face and warm, loving eyes, curly hair that fell in waves down to her waist. She stepped down in front of the young girl and ran her hand along her face, wiped her tears with a gentle finger.

"Don't cry, my love," she whispered, her voice a soothing song.

"I am your Guardian Angel."

2nd Place - Nopingout

She stood hand in hand with the little boy, shivering but joyful, gazing at the snowflakes decorating the town. They were both smiling, content with their current life, being the naive things they were. Their parents shielded them from every murder, every stoning, every burning, so while the rest of the town's children looked sickly and gaunt with worry of who was next, the pair's faces were happier than ever. When darkness covered the town, the little boy headed back to his mansion, and the little girl to her cottage. The next day, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

Thinking he simply slept in, she headed to his mansion, only to see the bodies of his family. The Godfather had crept in, unnoticed by the girl, putting his arm on the boy's shoulder like he was a prize. Weeping in relief, she jumped on him and hissed at the Godfather to not hurt him. "Why would I hurt him? He's our star ambusher!" He replies, chuckling at the little girl. The child held her companion's secret in her heart, never to have a word about it breathed to any soul.

But only a few days later, the boy was accused by the sheriff of being a part of the mafia. The town quickly got over their shock, he was always happy, never afraid of the murders, he must know of them! The boy was about to be executed, his head in the noose, but he seemed not to be able to be lynched. "Stop!", cried the girl,"He's never been anywhere except the town square and the house!" The town, being shocked from his inability to be lynched, let him go for the night. No matter his affiliations, she would always be his Guardian Angel.

3rd Place - TooStupidToDie

The Medium's brow furrowed in puzzlement as her crystal ball stirred, signifying the presence of a spirit far more powerful than any she'd dealt with before. It assumed an average town dweller's form and walked among the living at daytime, it would seem, but she had yet to discover the purpose of its descent--and why, she wondered, did it feel so unmistakably closer to her than the other ghosts?

The Guardian Angel remembered little of his past life other than the day it ended: the noose tight around his neck, the town's frenzied accusations drowning out his pleas. He'd done no wrong, he hadn't even stepped out of his house lately, all he wanted was to survive this hell, but nobody listened - nobody except one person. Though powerless to sway the majority's judgement in the end, they alone had it in them to believe him. Their face was the last one he locked eyes with in a silent understanding, and the first thing on his mind as he reawakened, knowing that from now on, it was his turn to defend. He swore to deter the wrath of the town, Coven, or any other faction or solitary creature that'd dare lay a hand on his charge, and not even the boundaries of the mortal realm would stop him from fulfilling his duty. Not this time.

The Medium shuffled back towards her bedroom only to freeze in silence as the faint sound of footsteps reached her ears, her heart sinking with the realization that this could be the night she'd be joining her dead companions. The door creaked open to reveal a dark figure which loved her not, but before it managed to approach her, she found the answer to her ealier question in a blinding beam of light and the swing of a white pinion that sent the intruder scurrying back. A distant memory of a trial resurfaced upon facing her protector, fitting the pieces together in her mind. She smiled dimly, aware that no matter what happened, she - at least - would be safe for the rest of the day.

Hex Master

1st Place - Sharky5x

When the Hex Master was a child, her grandmother was burned at the stake on suspicion of witchcraft. As her belongings were being confiscated, one object caught the Hex Master's attention. It was a worn out book. Skimming through it, she could tell it was in her grandmother's handwriting. It was a guide on curses! Something awakened in her that day. Exploring the book became an obsession, consuming every aspect of her life. The townspeople's jeering of her seclusion only added fuel to her passion.

Only one entry in the book eluded her powers. A hex of mass destruction. Every night she sneaked to her grandmother's tombstone to attempt the curse. She knew of another sorceress who practiced at the cemetery, but she felt performing the spell at her grandmother's grave was the only way she'd ever successfully complete it.


The spell fizzled into dust. The rats' beady eyes felt as if they were taunting her. A fresh wave of grievance came over her. She grabbed one of the rats and flung it across the clearing.

It landed by the grave the Necromancer was reanimating, disrupting her concentration. Startled, she moved to where the Hex Master was working. The Necromancer watched as she raised a hand towards her furry subject and recited an incantation towards a rat. She meticulously went through this process for each one.

Upon hexing the final rat, strength began to flow through her fingers. It manifested itself as a soft purple glow. It slowly evolved to a large flame on her palm. Her hand recoiled slightly, and the flame trembled. She calmed it back to rest in the middle of her palm. Moments later, the group of rodents' hair collectively stood on end. She took a deep breath and snapped her fingers. The blaze instantly left her hand and engulfed the rats, erasing them from existence.

The Necromancer made a noise of surprise and stepped out from behind her cover. "Who are you?"

She rose from the cold dirt and turned to face the Necromancer, who stared at the ashes in disbelief.

Her devilish smile accurately conveyed the joy she felt finally executing this curse.

"I'm the.. Hex Master."

2nd Place - waitingforcallisto

The sun sets on the houses of Salem, and in the forest surrounding the small town, the Coven gathers.

The Hex Master knows his trade well, after years of poring over old books in dusty libraries and practicing the spells within them after dark falls. There was never much else for him to do. Even when he was young, he was an outcast in his childhood hometown, forced to watch as his mother was banished for practicing her magic and as the neighbors whispered about her cursed burden of a child. He kept his head down, painfully aware of the eyes always watching him, until he was old enough to leave his foster family and past behind. Outside the borders of the village were others like him.

While the others among the Coven practice their own forms of magic, he is the quietest one among them. He shuffles through the worn pages of his spellbook in silence until he finds what he needs. Near the back of the tome, the pages dog-eared from so much use, is a hex he has used time and time again. The words are scrawled in his mother’s sloping handwriting on several fragments of parchment, each of them painstakingly glued to the page. The lines are the only remnant of his mother that he has. The incantation is burned into his memory and the words are always on the tip of his tongue.

It’s a discreet hex, meant to be cast and spread throughout the town in silence, and so the Hex Master is just as discreet. He keeps his head down in town meetings and speaks only when a response is expected of him, doing his best to avoid the suspicious stares. It’s only when every one of the Coven’s enemies is wrapped in invisible magic that it takes effect.

He wakes the next day to a town devastated by his magic, sparing only a smile for the dead before moving on to punish the next town in the name of all those they cast out.

3rd Place - KittyliciousSoDelish

Being an arsonist absolutely sucked.

His meager existence served no other purpose other than to give the town a startling fright and increase the time slot the mafia has to target townies. Once someone in the town discovers another with constant immunity among them, there was no escaping visits from the Investigator, the Sheriff, and the Vigilante. As a result, he would eventually be labeled as either the Godfather or the Arsonist.

The odds of successfully burning down the whole town were as minuscule as his gas supply was titanic, considering how he always had to make up some kind of plan to douse that crazy Veteran. Other than that, unlike the Godfather, he was completely alone.

His meager existence, while a threat to all alive, faded out into nothingness upon his death.

As he wandered out in the forest contemplating his motives, a woman swathed in dark purple robes crept up quietly behind the Arsonist, fully aware of his pyromaniac tendencies and with full intent to take advantage of such. Of course, he was a bit unstable, but it was nothing the Necronomicon couldn't fix - and enhance.

Removing the ancient relic from inside her robes, she tapped on the Necronomicon gently, nudging its conscience awake, alerting the Arsonist to her presence. The Coven leader watched him, interested, as he attempted to pull out his trusty gas bag, which unfortunately, he left in a hole near his house.

Helplessly, he stood there as the Coven leader walked towards him, the Necronomicon swirling mystically in her hand. Smiling, she grasped his shoulder and asked smoothly, "Would you like to make something of yourself?"

He hesitated for only a second before nodding eagerly.


1st Place - Therhino321

“The human mind is very… complicated, is it not?” a voice asked from the shadows of the room “What do you want from me?” the man in the chair yelled, soaked in sweat with blood running down his cheek. The shadowy figure emerged and wiped the blood off, diluted with sweat. It’s always important to make sure the client is relaxed before commencing with the process. The figured shushed the man in the chair. “Everything will be okay” the figure proclaimed.

“Everything will be okay” the man replied before being sent off to the dream world.

The hypnotist snapped out of this side of himself. Turns out that if you know the right people, a degree in psychology can pay extremely well.

He went to the nearby Consigliere.

“Ya sure it was the blonde guy on the corner that killed Tommy?”

“Sure as I’ll ever be” she replied, wiping the Sheriff’s blood off the rusted hammer.

The hypnotist returned to the Sheriff in the chair and gave him a firm slap across the jaw. He fell back into his medical side. This was so much more fun than working with those crazies in the asylum.

“Do you know that blonde man who lives three houses away from you?”

“Yes I do”

“He is a very bad man. He tried to hurt you tonight”

The hypnotist knew that this was working. He was just thinking about how fun this would be to do on the Mayor. All that power manipulated with a few simple words.

He took out his pocket watch and let it swing in front of the man’s face.

“But we protected you. He tried to hurt you but we saved you”

“You protected me and he tried to hurt me. I will tell the town and stop the man from hurting anyone else”


The man silently took the Sheriff back to his house to sleep. The man knew who would hang tomorrow. The Godfather would be very pleased.

2nd Place - 9thCloud

*Knock* *Knock*. A weary woman woke from her bed and crept to the door, opening it just enough to peek at her visitor. She was greeted by the sight of a well-groomed man, dressed in a brown suit. “May I enter madam? I wish to ask a few questions and I’ll be on my way” the man stated. Believing him to be the Sheriff, she opened the squeaking door and gestured her visitor inside to an adjacent table.

The man calmly sat down with the woman opposite him. “Are you comfortable?” The woman nodded. “Wonderful. Now before we begin…” the man started “I just want you to relax. Take some deep breaths slowly, in… and out. Feel everything leave through your fingers, in… and out; feel yourself drifting away…” At last, the woman’s face had smoothened, yet her eyes remained open; the man’s years of practice as a hypnotist were finally coming to use.

He rubbed his hands together with excitement. All his life he had a gift for hypnotism and worked in the magician’s circus, travelling from town to town and performing. Yet, he never felt satisfied, always wanting to be challenged more. That’s when he heard about the mafia and their deception stunts. Immediately intrigued, he quit his former job and joined their mob, finding himself at this woman’s house. Working for the mafia was certainly more exciting than the magician’s circus.

He pulled out a small, reflective, turquoise disc, suspended by a gold chain and gently swung it in front of the woman. The man spoke in a soft voice “You will not remember me or letting me in. You will remember being attacked by a cloaked man and being saved by a doctor. Your chest will hurt tomorrow. You will wake when you hear a loud noise.” To finish, the hypnotist wrapped a red stained bandage carefully around his victim’s chest then left through the backdoor, violently shutting it on his way out.

The woman woke from her trance, confused and hurting in her chest. She looked down and was surprised by the bloodied bandages, muttering “I must thank the Doctor tomorrow”.

3rd Place - Marowakawaka

From an early age, he was always interested in what made people tick. On an outward level: money, popularity, appearance. On a deeper level: acknowledgement, acceptance, affection. They all wanted to be happy. He studied the human mind further as he grew. Where he could find literature that hadn’t been burnt, he stockpiled it and read every night. Over time, it became an obsession.

At first, it was harmless experiments. As a teenager, he managed to trick his friends into spilling out their secrets and convinced them to act in ways they never normally would. Then, his methods got darker – the shy kid got on his bad side and was driven to suicide.

His friends slowly abandoned him as they realised what he was becoming. Able to convince anyone of anything, he learned of the awful side of people. By sheer accident, he uncovered the corrupt side of the town, making himself a target for the mafia.

What could they do to him though? He knew they were coming. He was prepared.

As the Godfather walked through the door, he believed he’d gone to the wrong house. In his mind, he was being escorted by a beautiful young woman, and dropped all responsibilities. Then it stopped. There was no Escort to be seen. He’d been poisoned. The old man eye’s darted around the room in a flustered panic, trying to understand what was happening.

The Hypnotist, now a young adult, stepped into the room. “Let me explain to you why you want me on your side.”


1st Place - Therhino321

There was a boy had known only one thing through his entire life. Strength. When he was young, he silently despised all the other kids. They had such luxury, such privilege that the boy never had. While they were all gathering around to talk about the latest toys that their parents had got them, the child watched in the distance, the only thing that his parents got him were no dinner for a week when they found out that he had failed the latest test. A neglectful childhood led the boy to find a new home, at a training camp for soldiers. The boy was addicted. Every night for ten years, he would break in, and train all through the night. This had bought him real happiness, something he had never before experienced. Eventually, the Godfather heard the news of a man who had bent steel bars and smashed cement like it was glass. He was impressed, and he needed somebody to deal with that pesky Sheriff who kept bothering him every night. He arranged to meet this ‘Juggernaut’ in person, and the Godfather promised ample compensation for the Juggernaut’s specific set of ‘skills’. It was at that moment a Vigilante shot down the door and raised his gun to the new partners in crime. “I knew it!” the Vigilante exclaimed, staring at the plans that the Godfather had carelessly left strewn on the table. The Godfather simply grinned, assuming his new muscle would take care of this threat. But all that the Juggernaut felt when he saw that gun in his face was an immeasurable rage.

The next day, the Town mourned the loss of the former town hero, who had his own gun stabbed through his torso when he tried to fight against the Mafia head on. As the crime scene was investigated more, however, the sadness quickly turned to blind confusion. As they found, lying under his desk, the leader of the Mafia, his arms torn clean from his body.

2nd Place - DumbStorm

The Mayor paced back and forth in his office, and then slammed his desk in frustration. The Sheriff sitting behind him simply stared on at the anger. "We don't know what this thing is." The Sheriff told the Mayor. "All autopsies done by the Doctor imply that the man beats the victims to death with strikes, causing blunt force trauma. Afterward, it tears its victims to pieces."

The Mayor looked at him with a grim expression. "It destroyed the Jail, correct?" the Mayor asked. "Yeah, the thing broke in, then it killed the Jailor and his prisoner. We haven't identified the prisoner yet, as his face has become unrecognizable from the impact of the strike. Not only that, the entire building collapsed afterward. He also seems to like counting his victims. He's killed six so far." The Sheriff explained with a serious expression.

The walls collapsed and revealed the night sky with the moon shining upon the culprit. The Juggernaut was here. The Mayor started to run to the door in horror, but the Juggernaut wouldn't let him. In only one move, he grabbed a brick and threw it at the Mayor's head, the shards of his skull blasted around the room and onto the carpet.

"Seven" The beast turned towards the Sheriff who was frozen in fear. The Juggernaut slowly stepped towards the sitting Sheriff, the pain from the bone shards didn't seem to faze it. The Bodyguard burst through the door and aimed at the Juggernaut and shot. It did nothing, and the beast simply smiled at the bodyguard, as he grabbed the Sheriff's body and tore him into two.

The Bodyguard watched on in horror as the Juggernaut stared into his fearful eyes while tearing up the Sheriff's corpse. It laughed at the Bodyguard. The laughter sounded nothing like a human's. "Eight" It got up and ran towards him. The Bodyguard shot twice more, but nothing would stop the rampage of the Juggernaut.

The next day, the house was nothing but a pile of bricks. The bodies were unrecognizable. A note written with blood found read "Nine"

3rd Place - Venusupreme

The man had finally made up his mind. At first, he didn't have the nerve to do it. But now... he knew he had to. The Mafia and the Serial Killer were killing everyone they chose. Why shouldn't he?

Using a blunt rock, he bludgeoned his first victim to death

He loved the fear he had instilled in the town the next morning.

Without hesitation, he used his rock to take out his second victim that night.

Seeing his corpse lie lifeless on the floor, he had never felt more... empowered. He was not the hunted. He was the hunter. And he loved it.

After carrying out his third murder, he was shot in the stomach by a member of the Mafia.

The gunman ran away, leaving the man to bleed to death.

But the man wouldn't die.

No, he was the one in control now. And nobody would take that away from him.

He pulled the bullet out of his stomach. Laughing, the unkillable Juggernaut went to sleep in a pool of his own blood.

The following night, he finally decided to kill the Mayor.

His door was too well blockaded to be broken down, but this didn't stop the Juggernaut. He wound up his fist, and punched the brick wall of the house at full force, sending bricks flying everywhere.

He charged at the Mayor, crushing his skull in a single blow.

A BodyGuard had tried to intervene, but he was powerless to stop the Juggernaut. He was thrown across the house into another brick wall, breaking his neck.

The Juggernaut then saw the Mafioso standing in the opening he had created. Did he want to kill the Mayor too? It didn't matter. The Juggernaut bludgeoned him to death with his own gun.

Finally, as he turned to leave, the Juggernaut saw a Lookout watching, horrified. The Juggernaut hurled a brick straight into the back of his head as he tried to flee.

The sun began to rise on all four of the brutally assaulted victims. Looking around at all he had done, the Juggernaut let out a ferocious roar.

This was his town.


1st Place - VanillaisLove1433

A blind old woman sits deadly still on an armchair, brushing a finger over the raised dots printed on the pages of her book. An esteemed Medium, forced to quit the job due to vision problems. A normal introduction, yet from then on, the Town began labeling her with a moniker she would covertly despise: the “crazy lady”. Neighbors would complain about eerie hissing noises coming from inside her house late at night. Whisperings would link the woman to a number of disappearances which only began to surface after her arrival. Rumors would pop up claiming that the missing looked exactly like the terrifying marble statues on her garden, unwillingly protecting her abode. She knew someone would go out of their way again to approach her and uncloak the arising suspicion surrounding the circumstances.

The blunt Sheriff was standing on her porch, impatient and eager to ask a few questions. He was smart, he was concise, and his interrogations quickly led him to an undisputable conclusion: she was a member of that cult of witches, the Coven. A threat to tell the Town was all the Medusa could take. Unveiling a head of snakes and a monstrous visage, she forcefully gripped the Sheriff’s face in her cold, bony hands and glared into the helpless man’s soul. The enraged Medusa unleashed upon him all the pain she had ever went through, from a wretched birth, to the curse of Athena, up to now, a laughingstock shunned by society. Faltering not her immobilizing gaze until the once-famed deputy was now nothing more than a new addition to the Gorgon’s assortment of figurines.

A blind old woman sits deadly still on an armchair. Dare you look her in the eyes, and suffer a same fate?

2nd Place - Therhino321

She had it all. Prestige, power, glory. She had finally made it.

Born into a family of 7 children, she received very little attention, forcing her to become independent at an early age. She eventually became completely self-sufficient and moved into her own house. It was this tedious, lifeless cycle of days that was only broken by the news of her parents.


Killed by strange spells, most likely witches.

The woman was of course, devastated, depressed. But she was desperate for the minute amount of money that the parents had left in their will. Money that her siblings could not receive.

She went to these same witches that killed her parents and asked the same fate of her siblings. The witches agreed. The woman did not know why they agreed, but did it matter? After the tragic fire that just so happened to kill six people, everything went to the woman. Everything her parents had and everything her siblings had was hers.

Contemplating her ill-gotten gains, the woman fell into a deep sleep and began to drift off into her dreams. She was confronted by the Coven that she had made the deal with.

“You!” the leader exclaimed.

“You killed your friends, and now you need to uphold our agreement!”

“What agreement?”, the woman cried out, gasping rapidly.

“You are one of us now!” the leader spoke, shaking the ground below her.

“The souls of those you have killed shall forever remain with you!”

She woke up in a cold sweat. Tears ruining her mascara. But she knew she was safe. Nothing could hurt her, it was just a dream.

She froze, as she heard six loud yet familiar hisses right next to her ears.

She belonged to the Coven, and she was forced to endure her six sibling’s souls with her at all times.

She felt the venom in her blood and the stone in her gaze.

3rd Place - ARIANNUHAN

T'was her 18th birthday, yet it was the saddest day of her life. Veteran, the old war hero, father of the turquoise haired,azure-eyed girl had passed away.

She had many admirers and suitors, however her father was against the idea of her marriage without her consent. Veteran knew that his time was coming to an end and so he asked his long time friend, The Mayor, whom he had saved during the war, to take care of his daughter as his own child. The mayor took her in but was soon overcome by lust and preyed upon her like a vulture. Inheriting her father's bravery, she escaped to seek help from Respectable Townies, Sheriffs, Doctors and even the Jailor. They either looked at her with pity for they cannot help her or with predatory gazes much like the mayor. On the streets, she was attacked by the mayor's goons to keep her quiet....forever. Thinking she died, the goons left the once beautiful maiden in blood and her clothes tattered into pieces. A feminine silhouette casts shadow over her under the Full moon.

Years Later.
A hooded figure looks at town from the hills and grins.

The town is in panic. Three people have been turned to stone figures with no faces, making them unidentifiable yet the horror they experienced could be felt.Strangely,Their¬¬¬ belongings had also suffered the same fate as their owners. The mayor randomly accuses someone and lynches them. Turns out, he was a lookout. The mayor still assures he will solve the problem. "Arrogant fool", the hooded figure thinks, enjoying the scene unfolding.

This is the same innocent girl, taken in by the Coven Leader, who saved her, taught her black magics as well as help her master the art of Seduction. She calls herself "Medusa" and specialises in petrification magic. Driven by thirst for vengeance, she lives to see town destroyed for ruining her life. Her once bright azure eyes, now dark and hollow steals life from those who look at her. She knows the mayor is too cowardly to come out of his home so she wishes to succeed the legendary witch treasure, necronomicon, to gain power to visit the Mayor and give him a slow and painful death along with anyone that that visit's the perverted mayor. That will be their retribution.


1st Place - Jallybwan

Death is a natural part of life, is it not? If so, then why is it feared? Why are we sad when a loved one dies? Shouldn't we be happy that they're in a better place? A little girl sobbed as she looked at the grave of her long-deceased father. Her mother had resorted to drinking, and was very rarely sober enough to interact with her own daughter. The girl had no friends of any sort, and she wasn't really interested in anyone at school. She was alone.

The next day, however, everything changed – for better or worse. Whilst absentmindedly flicking through channels on the television, she caught a glimpse of a news article sitting on the table in front of her. Turning the TV off, she picked up the paper and began to read. It spoke of many trivial events, but there was one particular entry that caught her eye.


Her heart stopped. Come back to life? Surely that was impossible! But the more she thought about it, the more she hated the thought of someone else returning from death. What made that woman so special? Why didn't her father come back? It was so unfair! She stewed in her anger and envy, the first of many bad thoughts to come...

Over the next few months, she researched the art of necromancy. She pored over the books in her local library, often staying up all night. All she wanted was to bring back her father. Eventually, she found a lead. A simple, black-covered book that exuded evil. She almost recoiled from its presence… but it was just so tempting. She knew, instinctively, that it would get her dad back. However, there was one thing she didn't account for. Death is final for a reason…

The ritual went without a hitch, and she saw her beloved papa’s corpse dig its way through the soil he was buried in. But it wasn’t the same man she had known her whole life. He was a pawn. A minion. And the girl knew it. The Necronomicon had corrupted her, twisted her mind. She grinned ferally at the shadow of her father. It was time to repay the world for all the suffering she went through.

2nd Place - Y3E

She had always dreamed of becoming a Retributionist. She had seen Jailors and Mayors magically brought back to life, seen the whole Town congratulating the Retributionist for his skills and powers. She was studying the powers of resurrection ever since she learned to read. Eventually, the girl grew up and it was her time; the town’s Mayor was killed by the Mafia last night, and she was the only one who could bring him back. She stood next to his body, closed her eyes and started saying the mantra, but to no success- the Mayor was still lying on the floor. She was exiled from the Town. She was crying in despair, and she decided: She will get revenge on this town. They will see that she has the power.

After half a year of travelling, she finally found what she was looking for- rumors said that this village is the home to a group of witches, known as the Coven, who seek revenge on Salem. The failed Retributionist was roaming around the town, looking for someone who might be a part of the so-called Coven. She saw a strange looking person wearing a hat with a bloodmoon on it. They looked around, while the girl tried to hide, but failed as the other- a woman – still saw her. The mysterious lady tried to say something, but was stopped by the girl, who shyly said “I-I’m sorry, b-but do you know where I can find the C-Cove…” “Shut up!” the lady said. She quickly glanced around, then quietly said “Follow me.”

The failed Retributionist followed the lady into her house. She whispered: “I am the Coven Leader. What do you want?” The girl told her story. She looked interested. “You can reanimate corpses, you say?” The girl shyly nodded her head. “Okay then, come with me. Make this dead Vigilante shoot the Bodyguard.” The Necromancer followed the Coven Leader until they saw the corpse of a Vigilante. She stood next to the body, closed her eyes, and said the mantra. The Coven Leader looked skeptical, when all of a sudden the corpse moved. The Vigilante stood up.

“Shoot him”, the Necromancer gently whispered. The Vigilante took his gun and went outside, while the astonished Coven Leader was staring at the girl.

Suddenly, a gunshot was heard in the distance.

3rd Place - Nopingout

She knew she was born simply to serve the town, simply to disobey the laws of nature, to give the unworthy town a second chance. The Necromancer was born to the previous Retributionist, who wished for her daughter to surpass her heights and to pass the point she achieved. Of course, this was impossible, unless the town paid a price.

Through gruelling summers and frigid winters, she trained to become something new: someone who could revive anyone, everyone, any time. But there was one problem: they lacked free will. The soon-to-be Necromancer played with her puppets, often causing havoc in the town, including murdering the jailor. The town despised her, and she loathed them back. Born to be the pawn of the town, live to serve the Coven, she thought when the group of witches inducted her into their group, taking a new name and identity.

Now, as a fully fledged Necromancer, she knew exactly what to do, exactly how to control her puppets. Tonight, the Sheriff was going to visit the Potion Master and the Coven Leader had the Necronomicon. How dare they try to hurt a comrade! Once again she heads to the graveyard, where she chooses which body of the dearly departed she should use. Then, she spots the gravestone of the Serial Killer. "It's time you were put to good use," she whispers to the grave.


1st Place - Khiash

After his ship, World's Wench, marooned at the cliffs, young Skullbeard had little to his name than a few choice of weapons. He needed to find wealth - fast. No landlubber would suspect that the wanted sign, denouncing Skullbeard's name and face, with a lord-sized bounty on his head, would in fact be the newcomer to town.

When the Investigator retired to his house after council, he saw the sign - on his front door. Immediately he recognized the culprit, and turned around just in time to meet the blackened teeth, and grog breath of his adversary.

Skullbeard lurched forward slowly. The Investigator fled into his home and went looking for something.. anything to defend himself with.

The pirate already knew which weapon he would use to slay this useless land-farer. He opened the door to his bedroom, meeting his prey not even 10 feet from where he stood.

The investigator was fearful, but determined to stand his ground.

"Heh," thought Skullbeard. "Had no idea they used chainmail here." He pulled out his rapier. "En garde!"

The following day, the pirate was halfway to his goal of fleeing this town, new ship in tow. He was ill-prepared for a firefight from the Mafia in this town, but he still knew how to send his foes with a one-way ticket to Davy Jones' Locker.

2nd Place - AwezomePozzum9265

He did not belong here. He knew he didn’t fit in. But his selfish desires and greed overtook his capability to show regard for his fellow townies. Many people called him self-centered or sociopathic, he knew he was. He belonged on a ship in the great Atlantic Ocean, a ship infamously known as the Atlantis. After his crew mysteriously died from the plague, he was left to find land. So he landed by a small town, the Town of Salem. He could not control his lust for loot and treasures even in this little town. He tried to squash his greed but through all of his efforts, he could not. Then his first night came in this foreign town. He needed his treasures! He could not resist. Running to his neighbor’s house, he pulled out his scimitar. The pirate had fought many people and knew all of his weapons only stood a small chance at defeated a so-called enemy of his, but he also knew he could try to outwit these strange folk. The pirate knocked on his victim’s door and yanked his scimitar out of his pocket then he slashed at the man. His prey had tried to sidestep but instead got killed by the mighty pirate. When the next night came he had already devised a plan. No one could dodge his rapier attack. At least he thought so. This time he ran all the way across town to reach his target. The pirate pulled out his rapier and jabbed it at his fellow townie only to watch his target backpedal. If he stayed there for another attack the man would see his face so his only option was to run home. Maybe next time he would get his target. But until then all he could do was wait.

3rd Place - CocoBunny313

How does one look both jolly and menacing at the same time? Scientists may have wondered it for years, but the Pirate flaunts it. He's down to having a good time - if that good time includes getting your loot and your life!

The Pirate boldly knocked on someone's door. It was opened a minute later, by a tired looking Veteran. They frowned a little, shifting their hand to hold onto the gun at their best. With a slash, the duel was on. He swished the scimitar he held, the Veteran ducking and dodging backward. This plan had to be foolproof - he'd done it last night to the Hex Master and he'd done it for his entire pirate life. However, the one thing the Pirate didn't bet on was the Veteran having a gun. One shot and the Pirate was down. With his last breath, the Pirate told himself. "Avast! The scallywag had a gun. Ye lost th' duel!" He had a habit of doing that.

Plaguebearer / Pestilence

1st Place - Daizy

Screams rang through the cold night and the Doctor burst out of his house, barely just grabbing his medical kit as he raced along the streets. Arriving at the source of unrest, he discovered a young boy, lying down, coughing and sobbing. Instinct made the Doctor cover his face with his trusty surgical mask, and he was right in doing so. A closer inspection revealed the alarming truth. The red rash, the hacking coughs, and the huge black boils that had risen on the pale skin… this boy had the plague. The Doctor should have been scared, worried, horrified, he knew this, but instead, he felt... fascination. How quickly could this disease spread, how many people could it kill? Hastily he took a sample, and commanded the boy’s family to be quarantined. Then, he hurried home to test this intriguing sample further. A week, and the Doctor finally held the result he was looking for. All he had to do was drop the solution on the path outside everyone’s houses, and the fumes would infect everyone who ventured there. He started to question himself, but then he remembered the other Doctor who always took the credit for himself, the Investigator who always snooped inside his house, the Jailor who roughly threw him in a cramped jail cell, and he felt better.

Inhaling the sweet scents of the herbs he put in his mask, the Plaguebearer infected person after person, using his dark robes to blend into the night. On the fateful night that the plague spread to everyone in the Town, the evil Doctor realized his power. As the moon was concealed under rolling grey clouds and the panicked screams rose from the town, Pestilence, Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, laughed so hard that tears rolled off his mask.

2nd Place - 9thCloud

“I was a simple plague doctor travelling through towns, trying to cure people of their illnesses. No normal sew-and-stitch doctor could compare to my line of business, but after years of helping and exposure to such things, I am no longer my old self. Each town I didn’t journey through began to fare better than the ones I helped and rumours were spreading like wild-fire. I was being labelled ‘The Disease Doctor’ and ‘The Plaguebearer’; no longer accepted by innkeepers and thrown out of towns for fear of infecting them. I lost my soul that day and permanently retired my old occupation. Since everyone already had war and famine then it’s time I, Pestilence, Horseman of the Apocalypse, gave you the plague.

I am the true wolf among all sheep, the snake eyes on a pair of dice, but the needle in a haystack. Do you really think a few witches and a mob with guns are your biggest threat? You’ve got another thing coming. Sure, before I was a pathetic disease-infested man in a bird costume, how intimidating. But trust me when I tell you this; I will bend you all around at my whim. I have a colder heart than any serial killer and am stronger than any werewolf.

And you, Town of Salem, have met your end, for you’ve all been infected. You’re in my domain now.”

- Pestilence’s note to the Town upon his complete transformation

3rd Place - VanillaisLove1433

Last patient for the day, the Doctor sighed to himself. The Tracker retold about how he had been following the Escort’s footsteps the other night, and complained about receiving an excruciating flurry of coughs and sneezes that wouldn’t go away with a simple spoonful of herbal syrup. Stepping forward and giving the man a routine check-up, the physician was able to confirm the Tracker’s rising suspicions. It was indeed, the Plague. Recent outbreaks of an infection had been occurring in all depths of Salem. Contagious however quite benign, none were able to come up with a remedy to alleviate the sickening nuisance coming from the allergic reactions. It created a cycle of contamination, a circle of disease. Mosquitoes, the Doctor would cry. Tiny bloodsucking carriers were to blame for this dreadful Plague. Smiling, he would call and invite the Town for a free check-up at his clinic. Murmurs pinpointing a Witch’s curse eventually began to die out as the Town discovered a functional cure from the beak-masked scientist. He would hand them a blue pill, just as he was doing now to his patient, the Tracker. A pat on the back and a quick reminder to come the next day if signs still showed, and the Doctor’s capsule would work like magic, they said. He snickered to himself, after the Tracker left for his nightly job. The foolish Town had never suspected a thing, he thought as he took off his coat.

In the center of the room was a pentagram, drawn in red paint uncannily resembling thick blood. Stolen from the dead Witch was the pagan book that displayed the final steps of the ritual, in his hands. At last, he thought of with his reincarnation. A grin fell on his lips as the beak-masked Doctor thought of the Town, being annihilated to shreds. He would obliterate them all, but with something much worse than a stupid, inane virus. He would bring about another pestilence, another plague. But this time, it would be the plague of Death.


1st Place - BakedPotaters

A little girl and her grandmother were wandering in the forest just outside of Salem, where the raspberry bushes grew wild, their baskets were overflowing, ready to make a delicious feast. As she ran over a hill she saw a marvelous bush with dark blue berries and bright pink flowers; She simply had to try them. Her grandmother managed to limp over the hill. Old as she may have been, she recognized those berries from a mile away. She ran to the girl and slapped the berries out of her hand, frantically grabbing at her clothes, screaming "did you eat any? Did you? Please tell me you didn't eat any!" the girl nodded earnestly. "that's a good girl!" a moment passed, and she started screaming again, "Don't you ever touch those plants! You hear me!? Those could kill you!" The girl nodded again, having learned her lesson. A decade had passed, and she had learned about every berry and herb in a hundred-mile radius. They called her a freak at school, an orphan, a meaningless nobody. How she hated them. She was young and impulsive, but unfortunately was not stupid. She ground those berries from the very same bush that nearly her killed as a child and poured the pulp into a pie. She went over to the worst bully of them all, the Mayor's son and offered him the pie. He ate it, and within a moment was dizzy, and nauseas. The day after he was dead. The lookout screamed, "She's the one who visited him two nights ago and gave him a laced pie! She's the murderer!"

Fueled by adrenaline, she ran and ran, as fast and far as her legs could take her into the forest, where the town lost track of her. She kept on running until she ran into an older woman collecting mushrooms. The Coven Leader took the young girl under her wing and decided that inexperienced as she may be, she had potential. She hid the girl from the town, on the agreement that the girl would work for the coven as the poisoner.

2nd Place - dyaomaster

The swamp was miserable. Flies filled the air, the murky water stank, and the moss on everything made it hard to walk from one point to another without an inevitable slip and dunk. Why she was told by her family to protect this place, the Poisoner had no idea. She only knew that they would do terrible things to her if she failed, and they could always find her if she hid. Her only distraction from the endless days of monotonous boredom was the constant process of poison making - distill the essence of toad, add just the right amount of hemlock, simmer on a flame for a hour, and let sit until needed. So far, it had never been needed, as nobody else had actually wanted the swamp.

It came as no surprise that the Poisoner would take the first opportunity she could to escape. When the Coven Leader appeared in a flash of light and proposed a new task for her, she gladly accepted and followed her through her portal to an outpost near the town of Salem. There was no way her family would be able to find her through the depths of time. The woods were a much better place to live than the swamp: cooler, fresher, cleaner, and greener. It helped that toadstools made much more potent poisons than actual toads. The Poisoner settled into her new profession; instead of defense, she now specialized in murder. For the woman who saved her, of course.

3rd Place - AzuraSilverflame

The room was silent except for the bubbling of potions and the occasional “Is it done yet?”. In the corner, the young woman, her face hidden by a cloak, dropped a few tiny, black, beady seeds into the herbal mix she had created and stirred the liquid, a smile forming on her face. A little girl waiting at the door, her eyes happy with excitement, took a few quick steps forward, limping a bit on her left foot. The woman, chuckling, beckoned the young patient over, picking her up and placing her on the stool. The little girl drank the mix eagerly, and the young woman promised that she would feel much better soon.

A day later, the girl was found in her bed, sickly white and with white foam bubbling at her mouth. But it was too late, as the woman had slipped back into the shadows, laughing as she told the tale to the Potion Master.

“Am I useful?” the woman asked, “Did I please our Coven?”

“Do it again.” the Potion Master commanded, “You have a gift, and you will use it.”

The Poisoner was happy to agree.

Potion Master

1st Place - Jallybwan

Eye of newt? Pah! Newts weren’t even that common around here. People always saw witches as women with pointy hats riding broomsticks, stirring the most outlandish of ingredients into their fabled cauldrons. But those were all fairytales. A true witch could make miracles out of anything. From a young age, the bartender of the local pub had a penchant for mixing things. Whether it be milk and berries to make a smoothie, or cyanide and bait to make rat poison, she could make just about anything. As she progressed in age, more and more people came to try her concoctions. Even in her small town riddled with crime, she found solace in mixing the best beverages he could for her clients. But it wasn’t enough.

She was bored. People knew her, yes, and she was well-paid, but… it didn’t satisfy her. She knew she could do better than this. Eventually, she decided to mix more… interesting things. One such mixture was a salve, a special lotion that could heal almost any wound. It proved its merit when a maniac had stabbed the local doctor. Lathering it on the wounds, she watched as his frail body restored its cells and gave him breath.

Another was a truth serum of sorts – it flooded the consumer with the urge to spill their secrets. Whether it be an embarrassing moment or a heinous crime, they simply couldn’t resist telling the bartender exactly who they were. Although… “bartender” wasn’t enough to describe this girl anymore. She was much, much more now.

The last of her “special” drinks was even more special than the others. Instead of making her targets talk, she could silence them forever. That boy who’d bullied her as a child? They found him dead in his bed, an empty vial in his hand. The teacher she hated all her life? Slumped over his desk, a strange green fluid staining his shirt.

She wasn’t bored anymore.

2nd Place - VioletNightingale

A knock on her door awoke the Potion Master from her sleep. A message had come from the nearby town of Salem, stating that the Doctor had been killed by the Mafia, and that the people required her services to keep them safe. Leaving her homeland, the Potion Master did as she was bid, and served the people of Salem to the best of her ability. However, it took days for her to brew a healing potion after each successful operation, and hence she found she could not protect those that came to rely upon her.

A shadowy figure had appeared to her one night, believing that he was going to be killed imminently. Since she liked to know exactly who she was serving, she brewed a special potion to expose her patron as the Mayor, who, in hiding had yet to reveal himself to the people. Knowing that a lot was at stake, she instantly gave him a healing potion, however the Mafia outsmarted her, and waited a day before killing him.

Upon discovering the dead man as the Mayor, the people of Salem turned against her, and banished her into the woods. Fearing that the Mafia would be waiting to ambush her at her residence, she ran deeper and farther away from home, until she was found by the Coven Leader and the Poisoner. They accepted her in a way that no one else had, and taught her how to make potions that could kill her targets, as well as healing and revealing them. Armed with her new knowledge, and fighting alongside the people the Potion Master could count as her only friends, she vowed her revenge on the people of Salem; on both the Town and the Mafia.

3rd Place - ForTheKarp

"Ah, yes. I little bit of this, a little bit of that..."

The Potion Master was crafting a special brew tonight. As she stirred her pot, memories swirled into her mind like the magical steam from her cauldron. She was only a child when the Coven first recruited her. They broke her out of jail after she killed her parents with her brews, and made an offer. They could protect her, and she only had to lend them her expertise. At first, she declined. The young Master had no intentions to join a cult. But a few months later, she pondered the offer. The Coven could be useful...

And thus she began her career. She used her potions for espionage and assassination and everything in between. She reluctantly took orders from her Leader, but knew she had to bide her time. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The potion was done. The Potion Master filled one of her vials and payed a little visit to the Mayor.

Yes, she was taking orders from the so-called Coven Leader. But make no mistake. She planned to rule this Town, and she planned to do it alone.


1st Place - VanillaisLove1433

She opens her eyes, gleaming with a faint orange glow of the candle, and uncovers a deck of cards securely hidden within the folds of her robe. A deep breath, and she shuffles them with a vague sense of expertise, or rather, a sense of total familiarity. Memories of her dying mother passing on both the set and the authority to undertake the mystical career alone, would forever echo in her head as she prepares to do the job she was solely trained for. The Psychic murmurs a short prayer, and brushes the cards face-down in a line. Facing down, her gaze lies upon them, all embellished with a crimson arabesque design, each representing a specific villager residing in Salem. The Red Tarots were the manifestations of the negative traits living within each of the townsfolk. With her fingers carefully resting above the cards, she picks three, the energy of which burned strongest at the present hour. Flipping the trio over, she studies carefully their contents, and proceeds to infer the possible individual, or individuals, blackened with a heart of darkness.

Ares, the God of War. It represented the trigger-happy Veteran, post-traumatic from his distant battles. The Judge of Power. It was a card representing their highest-ranking official, the Mayor. A swift aura of complete realization empowered her, yet she was now forced to comprehend the risks she needed to take. Gripping the last tarot of Hellfire in her hand, to accuse someone in their Town was to put herself to the possibility of being called a fraud, or even death. But to die, she concluded, has to happen to someone, if they ever wished for justice to prevail in their village.

2nd Place - MissBlake

There was one girl who was always alone in the Town, always carrying a light purple journal around with her wherever she’d go. No one in the Town could recall a time where she’s ever spoken. She had a good reason too, she had been recently getting visions in her dreams of people in the Town and knew what they meant, but feared she’d be accused of witchcraft.

She had a gift, she just wasn’t sure how to announce it. No one would even believe her, she’d just sound crazy.

She looked through her small dream journal and went over all the names of people who she had seen in her visions, evil and good. She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the argument between the Town and a Vigilante. She overheard that he wanted to shoot someone, suspecting they were apart of the Mafia, but no one would have it since it was only the beginning of evil rising. The girl walked to him and silently tapped his shoulder. “Sir… If I may interject, I do believe the person you’re going after is evil. I have… I have been having visions lately.” The Vigilante listened, then hesitantly nodded.

The next day it was revealed the Vigilante had shot the man he said he’d go after, and even more surprisingly he was apart of the new faction, the Coven. The girl got praise, and was asked many questions. Even though she was overwhelmed she managed to stutter out, “I’m a Psychic, and I will help the Town.” From that day on, she continued to help with her visions to aid her fellow Townsfolk.

3rd Place - waitingforcallisto

Even when she was a little girl, the Psychic’s dreams were strangely vivid.

The things that occupied her mind after falling asleep were far from the typical products of a child’s imagination. And no matter how well-adjusted of a child she seemed to be in the daytime, as soon as the sun set, everything changed. As far back as she and her family can remember, the girl’s dreams had always been filled with shadowy strangers and strange places rather than dinosaurs and castles. During her toddlerhood, she frequently jolted awake in the middle of the night, crying for her mother and shaking with fear. The nightmares only worsened as she grew older.

It’s only three days after her nineteenth birthday when her mother finally gives up on finding a cure. It’s only two days after that when the Psychic, desperate and determined to figure one out herself, pays a visit to the old woman who lives out near the cliffs.

Rumors abound about the woman, most of them claiming she’s a Necromancer and that is why she could so often be found in the town graveyard. But the Psychic has nowhere else to turn for answers. It’s only after the old woman introduces herself as a Medium that the girl sees a spark of hope.

The girl leaves the Medium’s house an hour later with a clear head for the first time in years. That night, when the visions came, she accepts them. At first, it’s grueling to manage and try to understand them, but as nights pass and she becomes more proficient at channeling them, the Psychic finds clarity among the things she sees. A year later, she leaves her hometown with a new purpose.

Now, she travels from town to town, bringing otherworldly knowledge and a gift for seeing the unseeable with her. Her talent began as a curse; now she uses it to root out the bad in every town she visits. Finally, the Psychic’s nights are peaceful.


1st Place - Therhino321

The Tracker had always been good at what he did. He grew up in a family of hunters, where he learned everything about how to stalk, how to pursue, and then how to act. Turns out that being cut off from people through his childhood ended up making him all the more dependent on people throughout his adulthood. There was always some noteworthy charisma that was imbued into him. Everyone gravitated around him. He also seemed to have his neck plastered with lipstick marks most days. Anyone’s guess as to why. The Town needed somebody like this, a person who could gain trust and relentlessly pursue a target at the same time. The Tracker accepted this offer. He was willing to help out anybody who was in need of it.

His first night on the job was somewhat compromised. He opened his door to find a beautiful woman standing in front of him. A few drinks later and it was business as usual for The Tracker.

He soon grew suspicious of this woman, there had to be something more to the night than just that. He followed her for a few days and found that she was visiting someone new every single night. The Tracker slowly grew obsessed with this woman and stalked her every single night.

One day, he went back home, frustrated after intently watching this Escort and another man in bed. His rage remained until he found out his new obsession was dead by the cold blade of a deranged lunatic.

Anguish washed over him. He was desperate for revenge. He told everyone the next day about how he saw the Escort visit this man’s house the night before her untimely demise. Nobody questioned him; this was just the Tracker’s job. The accused was drenched in sweat as he felt all eyes on him. “I mean… th-this guy has it out for m-me” he murmured desperately. Then a rusty blade fell from his pocket. The Tracker was in prime position to finish its prey.

2nd Place - VioletNightingale

A mother and her son sat at a wooden table, patiently waiting for the boy's father to return home. An Investigator by profession, he always was working late, though tonight, tensions were reaching breaking point. The boy could sense that his mother was upset. It was his parents anniversary evening, and they were meant to be enjoying a family dinner, but that had long since gone cold. Sleep began to claim the boy's thoughts, and, after waiting an hour, the mother and her son finally gave up and went to bed.

The boy woke up in the early hours of the morning as the door of the house unlocked, and his father stumbled in. Peering from the top of the banister, the boy could see that his father looked as dishevelled as usual and hence he promptly stumbled onto the lounge.

The following morning began with another argument between the Investigator and his wife. Deciding to get to the bottom of the situation, the boy took his dog and attempted to follow his father that night. Arriving at a house on the other side of Salem, the boy peered through the window, and was shocked as what he saw; his father was involved with another woman- an Escort! Running away back to his worried mother, the boy attempted to forget what he saw, concerned that if he told his mother, it would destroy their family.

Throughout the day, the boy spoke to his dog, the only friend he could share his true thoughts with. He did not know what to do, and hence followed his father once again to try and convince himself that he was not having an affair, and yet, once again, his father frequented the same house, the house of the Escort.

As the sun rose, the boy became confronted with an impossible situation; the Escort had been stabbed by the Serial Killer, and all the evidence pointed to his father. As they put the Investigator on the stand, the boy found his voice, and revealed himself as the Tracker, saying that his father had visited the Escort before and hence could not be the Serial Killer. Cautiously, the people of Salem deemed the Investigator innocent. The boy had saved his father, though at what cost to his family he could not know.

3rd Place - WizardLord160

No, the Lookout thought to himself. This will never work. The recent confrontation of the Coven has devastated the innocent over the span of five nights. Every town member dreads it won’t be their turn, and many have decided to find out the anonymous identities of the witches and lynch them.

Five nights of reigned terror. The Lookout has decided to camp stealthily near houses, enveloped with the darkness of the night to conceal himself. He always carries a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, in order to swiftly record anyone who visits the house he camps at.

Five nights and the Lookout has yielded no results. Of course, the Lookout suddenly contemplated. If only I follow the witches, instead of waiting for them to come to me! And with that, he was the Tracker, and no longer the Lookout.

On the sixth night, a strange woman, the Tracker’s neighbor, quietly crept out of her house. Watching from his window, he observed the woman walk towards the other side of town. Abruptly, she disappeared from view. Where did she go? Slowly opening his door, he went out into the cold night, ready to see what his neighbor was up to.

Catching sight of his target again, he briskly ducked, stalking her silently. The woman entered a house. A shine of moonlight momentarily lit up her face, which was enough time for the Tracker to know her name, Cotton Mather. The Tracker quickly went up to the house and hid. This Clown house, he thought to himself, this belongs to Deodat Lawson! The Tracker messily wrote:

N6- Cotton Mather visits Deodat Lawson!

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, he went back to his house and slept with pride.

The next day, Deodat was found turned into stone. After many accusations and whispers, the Tracker announced his findings. Saying with much authority, he accused Cotton Mather of being the Medusa.

The town was very desperate. With no other choice, they lynched her, giving no heed to her defense.

Just as the rope broke her neck, the Medusa suddenly turned from a beautiful woman to an ugly hag with snakes as hair.


1st Place - DumbStorm

A master engineer. It was his dream for years, he always wanted to be known for building great machinery. He had decided to start small, as building simple hunting traps. However, just after seven days of selling hunting traps, he was employed by the Towns very own Mayor to defend against recent claims of a Coven about. He was recognized for his skill in building traps and was asked to build protective machines, and he has come up with the perfect trap for the job. A good friend of his is familiar with brewing revealing potions, which gave him an idea. He grabbed a bunch of reveal potions, spare metal, and wood, and starts to bend the materials into the masterpiece he was going to build. The trap being stepped on will use a simple lever mechanism underneath the boards of the home, which will press another mechanism which will force the potion out. The rest was simple, put a bear trap on it. Once they step on it, a gun given to the trapped will be able to shoot them dead. He looked at his creation and smiled. The Mayor has asked for it be set up for him at his home, that's easy enough for the Master Trapper.

After setting up the masterpiece he had created, he left the home of the Mayor and- he got shot as he went through the door. Ambushed, he was shot in his arm, he must have been taller than the Ambusher expected. The Trapper collapsed onto the floor. The Ambusher walked up to him slowly, and strangely enough, the Trapper smiled, and got back up quickly and ran back inside.

The Ambusher, confused from his sudden ecstasy, chased inside after him, and got trapped! The bear trap dug deep into his legs, and the pressure applied to the mechanism below only made it worse. The reveal potion hit his head, breaking into many shards, causing him to scream in pain.

The Ambusher dropped his gun from the pain, and then it was the Trapper's turn to take aim.

2nd Place - Marowakawaka

He’d always had a knack for the outdoors. His dad taught him how to survive in the wilderness while he was still young. As a child, camping was his favourite thing to do and every year he’d get a group of his friends together to do it.

Now, as a middle-aged man, he had a lumber business. It had always seemed like the right path for him; living right by nature with the comfort of the forest and a wooden cabin. All he needed was his family and his livelihood and he was happy. Living out here had its other perks too – the town recently was getting a bit too hectic and dangerous for his tastes. Being isolated away from there was the safest choice for his children.

One solemn night, the Trapper was returning home after a long day’s work chopping in the woods. One of his bear traps had been set off that morning, luckily getting rid the beast before it got anywhere near his home. Similarly, he’d caught several rabbits in his contraptions and was looking forward to a feast tonight.

But then everything went black.

A few hours later, he awoke in a jail cell. Taking a few moments to become fully lucid, he realised the situation he was in. “What’s this for?” he questioned the Jailor. “I haven’t seen you in years and this is how you treat me?”

“Look, I’m sorry. This is the only way I know how to do things. I didn’t want to do it like this, but it felt safer than approaching you directly. I’ll cut to the chase. As you know, we have a problem with crooks around here…” The Jailor looked down and bit his tongue.

“What? You think I’m one of them? Come on, you know I couldn’t do anything like that! I’m a family man!” The Trapper retorted with a confident albeit panicked rebuttal.

“I didn’t bring you here to execute you. Actually, I want your help.”

3rd Place - Multiuniverse

"The horses are gone again."

The Carpenter looks at the remains of his stable, the splintered woods and the crooked gate.

It was happening for almost a week now, each night there was a hound of a wolf and then noises of things being broken. The next moment the carpenter was down the stair and into the yard, witnessing the ruins of his stable.

Days after days, nights after nights, he repaired the stable again and again and again the "wolf" comes and all his handiworks destroyed.

But tonight it will be different.

The Carpenter smiles as he whittles away the wood from his shell of a trap. A few metals here and there and anything that touches it would not make it out alive.

That night, he places the trap at the entrance of the stable and went to bed, waiting, watching.

As the hours pass by and the clock ticks by the Carpenter grows more anxious, what if the "wolf" doesn't come? What if all the works is simply going to be wasted?


The Carpenter was down the stair and in the yard in the instant. A figure is caught in the trap. Cautiously, the Carpenter slowly approaches the figure. The figure struggles against the trap as the Carpenter takes closer inspection. The moonlight gleams against the wolf's face as it howls in pain. After a moment the howl dies down. The Carpenter watches in silent at the wolf's body, and as he was going to walk back to his bed the wolf shudders as it's body shrinks to become a man.

It was a werewolf.

Next morning the town wakes up peacefully. The Carpenter triumphantly shows the town his prize and from then on he was the Trapper, whittling away the wood one night and placing traps in various places the other.

There were incidents where visitors were caught by the trap but it is often easily resolved as the Trapper changes his trap as the invaders changes their ways.

The town was peaceful, and the Trapper liked it that way.