A brief history;

In the winter of 1692, mass hysteria held the village of Salem, Massachusetts in it's grip. The cry of witchcraft sent the villagers into a frenzy, and in the end, twenty-five people died; nineteen were hung, one was pressed to death, and five more, including two children, died in prison. The terror lasted for over a year, until May, 1693, though the ramifications lasted for decades.

This is historical fact. But what if there were more victims? And what if Witchcraft was real?

Ohio became a territory of the British in 1754, and became a state of the union in 1803. The city of Westerville was established in 1858, though the area had been settled for many years before.

Again, this is historical fact. But what if someone had settled there long before the British?

…

Salem, Massachusetts, May, 1693

The boy stood stoically, a sneer on his face, hands bound behind him, a necklace of rope around his neck.

"Josiah Whitaker, you have been found guilty of the crimes of witchcraft and murder," a middle aged man read the formal decree. "It is the finding of the court that you did knowingly cause the deaths of Gerald Neighbour, Nathaniel Black, and Daniel Parish through the use of magic, and that you did knowingly enspell my son, William, and coerce him into an unnatural relationship. You have been sentenced to death by hanging. Have you any last words?"

The boy continued to glare at those gathered, meeting each and every one of their eyes. "I have done no wrong, and you know it. My blood is on your hands!"

A few in the crowd lowered their eyes in remorse. Others looked angry at the accusation, and yet others seemed to be in the grip of fear.

A shout in the distance caught all of their attentions.

"Father! Stop!" Another boy raced into the clearing. "You cannot do this! He is innocent!"

The sight of the other boy finally seemed to crack the accused's resolve. "William! You should not have come!"

The older man looked pityingly at his son. "You are still under his influence! This is the only way to cure you of this unnatural affliction!"

"Love is not an affliction, Father! I love him!"

"William! No! Don't!" Josiah sobbed.

The darker boy turned to face him. "I cannot let them do this to you! It was I who killed those boys! I confess! They attacked Josiah! I killed them to protect him!"

"No! He lies!" Josiah screamed, but the other boy didn't stop.

"I am the one who enspelled him, Father!"

The crowd began to murmur among themselves, some looking between the two boys speculatively, some with a calculating look in their eyes.

"He has confessed to witchcraft!" Someone in the crowd shouted. The Magistrate glared at them.

"No! He is bewitched! He would say anything to save his master!" The grumbling of the spectators grew in volume, and some of them began to push forward, unheeding of the Magistrate's proclamation.

"He is a witch!" Someone cried

"Take him to the jail!" Another voice screamed.

"William! No!" The bound boy shouted. "Run, my love! Save yourself!"

"I will not leave you!" The dark boy tried to reach for him, but cruel hands pulled him away.

"Stop!" The Magistrate called out, trying to place himself between his son and the mob calling for his arrest. "Once the witch is dead, my son will come to his senses! He is innocent!"

"Run, William! Please! Get away!"

The Magistrate turned to the accused. "This is your fault! You infected my son's mind with your corruption! The Devil take you!"

The older male kicked out, knocking the block of wood the boy stood on out from under him. The resounding snap of the neck was shockingly loud in the sudden silence. For a moment, all was still, except the swaying of the body, and a small yellow bird that had been startled from it's perch in the tree's branches, causing the songbird to take flight.

William was the first to move, in a state of shock, he approached the boy he loved. He reached out a hand towards that beautiful face, but stopped short of touching the cooling skin. Instead he clenched his hand into a fist.

He turned to his father. "You killed him! How could you! You killed him!"

"I did it to protect you! His spell over you is broken now!"

The boy looked down at the ground, and then back up at the man before him. Fire seemed to glow in the boy's eyes.

"I was never under his spell, Father." As the dark boy spoke, the ground beneath his feet began to shake. The crowd began to panic as they stumbled against each other, the skies overhead darkening with storm clouds. "I am my Mother's child! It was she who taught me the craft in secret! Do you think I did not know it was you who had her accused and hung? And now you have killed the man I loved!"

The ground began to shake more violently, causing the mob to fall to their knees and cling to each other in fear.

"I am the witch you seek, Father! Now hear my words, for this is my curse upon you! You shall remarry, and produce a son, and he will grow and produce a son, and he will produce a son, but none of them will be content in life! Their love will wither and die inside them, and they will know no joy, for generations to come, until the day my love is reborn. Only he will have the power to break the curse!"

The quake grew in strength, the screams of the crowd around them growing louder. The dark haired boy leaned in closer so only the older male could hear him.

"You are no longer my Father. From this day forward, I claim my Mother's name. William Anderson is dead!"

His words were punctuated by the booming of thunder, as a bolt of lightening struck the tree where his beloved still hung, blinding those cowering in fear. When their vision cleared, the boy was gone, as was the tree with it's unnatural fruit. From somewhere unseen, the song of a warbler could be heard, singing a mournful tune.

…

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
They strung up a man
They say who murdered three
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree

…

Westerville, Ohio, October, 2010

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, the teacher, Mr. Carlson, called out, "Don't forget, Founder's Day is coming up next week! You need to be finishing up your projects for the open house. And I have it on good authority that the Warblers will have an 'impromptu' performance that day as well!"

Blaine smiled as the other boys broke out in cheers at this news. He gathered up his books and bag, and headed back to his dorm, humming to himself. Once he was alone in the dorm, he dropped the dapper persona, and sagged down onto his bed. Some days it was just harder to put on the act than others. He took out his phone and reread the text he'd received that morning.

I'm moving out. I'm sorry, I cannot stay with him any longer. Stay strong. I love you.- Mom

Blaine sighed. He'd known it was inevitable. His father had become more and more unbearable the last few years, since Blaine had come out to them. The strange thing was, he didn't take it out on Blaine. No, for some reason his father blamed his wife, Pam, for Blaine being gay. That isn't to say that Blaine was spared from his father's demanding and often demeaning nature.

Almost from the minute Blaine had been born, James Alexander Anderson had found fault with his son. The first thing his father had said upon seeing him after his birth had been, "He's too small."

As he'd gotten older, there had been other characteristics of his that his father had criticized; his hair was unruly, he was too excitable, he behaved like a puppy jumping all over the furniture, and he tended to burst into song at the most inappropriate times.

Blaine couldn't help it, though. Singing was the one thing in his life that even remotely brought him any semblance of happiness anymore. But lately, even that hadn't been able to sustain him. It felt as if he was forgetting what emotions were. He was going through the motions, but nothing really registered.

He tried to remember the last time he had truly felt anything. Had it been after the attack? No, it had been the summer before Freshman year, when he had come out to his friend, Howard, who was also gay. The two boys had been best friends practically from birth. They had met in daycare, and had bonded over identical Cookie Monster t shirts on the first day.

Howard had come out when he was thirteen. Blaine had been naive and had had to ask what being gay meant. After the other boy had explained, Blaine had just shrugged. What difference did it make who you loved? But over that next year, Blaine had thought about it more and more, and had come to the conclusion that he himself was also gay.

It had been the day before his fourteenth birthday, and he recalled it clearly. They had been sitting in his back yard, feet dangling in the pool, and Howard had been telling him about this boy he had met from another school who had asked him to go skating with him.

Blaine could tell his friend was giddy about having his first 'date' with another boy, and was happy for his best friend, and told him so.

"I'm glad you've met someone you really like. I hope it works out for the two of you."

"Thanks, Blaine! Hey, maybe if you asked someone to come with you, we could have a double date? I know Angie would come with you. She really likes you, you know."

Blaine, shrugged. "She's nice, but I don't like her like that. We're just friends."

"Well, what about Lisa?"

Blaine sighed. "There aren't really any girls I like that way."

Howard had turned and looked at him then, his eyebrow raised in question. Blaine had kind of smiled at him. "I'm gay, too. I've been thinking about it a lot since you told me about it, and I've realized that is why I've always felt different than other kids."

"Wow, that's cool Blaine! I'm glad you've figured it out. Are you going to tell everyone else? What about your parents?"

Blaine shook his head. "Not yet, but soon, I think. I just need a little more time to adjust to the idea, you know what I mean?"

Howard nodded, and hugged him. They had talked some more, and had teased each other about how this sounded like the beginning of some cheesy YA gay romance novel, though they both knew that they would never be anything more than friends. Neither felt any attraction for the other.

Blaine remembered that it had felt so good that day to admit out loud for the first time who he truly was. He remembered how happy he was that he had a best friend to share this discovery with, who understood and accepted him.

As he sat in his dorm room, he recalled what had happened the next day. His mom had invited Howard and a couple of his other friends over to celebrate Blaine's birthday. They'd been in the living room, eating pizza and watching a baseball game, when James Anderson had come home from work in a foul mood.

His dad had forgotten it was his birthday, and didn't care. He didn't like coming home to a house full of noisy teenagers, and had kicked them all out. Pam had been furious, and the two had shouted and argued for well over two hours, while Blaine lay in his bed, hearing every word, silently crying into his pillow.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. He had seven minutes to get to Warbler rehearsals. He got up and went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, and studied himself in the mirror. He didn't recognize the face staring back at him. Hadn't for a long while now. He wondered briefly if maybe there was something mentally wrong with him, but really couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

He took a deep breath, and forced the happy-go-lucky mask back into place, and headed down to the Warbler's commons, whistling a Katy Perry tune as he walked.

…

Westerville, Ohio, May, 1994

The dimly lit cellar echoed with chanting as the twelve figures cast their circle of protection, and began their incantation. Their leader entered into a trance like state, sending his spirit out of his body to search for what they sought, as their coven had done every year on this date for the past three hundred years. In those long centuries, they had found no trace of the precious item, and none of them expected tonight to be any different.

They were surprised when the figure in the center of their circle stiffened, and returned to his body so soon.

"He is reborn. We must prepare."

…

A/N This was originally going to be my Halloween story later this year, but the idea just got so persistent in my mind while I was trying to work through my writer's block on both The Final Bite and Their Love is Out of This World. I'm nearly finished with the next chapter of The Final Bite, and am still working on Their Love, and hope to get those posted soon. I also just started the next chapter of Klaine, The Musical, Dalton Days, and will hopefully have that up next week sometime.

I hope you all enjoy this story. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!