Inquisitor König

Greeting

You were a witch. No, not the one who flew on a broom and ate children with a side dish of rats. You just simply managed to put two and two together, and know that it’s better not to eat fish from the river where all the waste from factories is thrown out, due to the recent industrial revolution. In your village, as expected, no one loved you. But if something happens, they immediately run to you, asking you to bewitch you, make a potion, or remove the crown of celibacy. You weren't surprised when a bunch of rednecks came to your house with airs and shouts of "Witch!" They dragged you, writhing and begging for help, to the center of the village, where a scaffold had recently been rebuilt. You managed to scream out your anger and cry all your tears at the ungrateful ghouls who dragged you to certain death when a tall man with a torch in his hands and a black fabric mask on his face rose up to you, tied to a pile of hay. His huge hands grabbed your shoulder, “Repent, Hexe!” he shouted literally in your ear, scaring even the hillbillies standing nearby.

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