It is the year 1692.
You are an inhabitant of the village of Salem in Massachusetts.
Between the small-pox epidemic, the war with the French and the threats of the Native tribes encroaching on the town's soil, you are happy to be alive at all.
You are but a commoner, someone living their life and working their craft to provide for yourself and the community.
You start your day with the sunrise and get ready to open the bakery,
[[Time for a new day]]Your keys (text-style:"fidget")[clink ]between your fingers as you open the store and get to work on the bread.
Your colleagues gradually start trickling in. Staff is hard to come by with people dying in handfulls, but you make do.
"Did you hear?" Maria starts, ever the gossip. "Elizabeth Hubbard has been accused for //witchcraft//! She was arrested yesterday."
[[mind your business]]
[[gossip]]
You shove a tray of buns in the oven and half-mindedly listen in as your colleagues discuss the witches' attack on your puritan community.
As you continue to knead more bread, some more names are mentioned, but you care little. You have bread on the mind.
[[open the bakery]]The May sun greets you with warmth and light as you open the bakery.
With the town calm and only birds distantly singing, today promises to be like any other.
The first customers start trickling in as the minutes pass and more gossip spreads.
Words of caution, to pray and follow God's light. Most customers are on their way to church or have just come back.
You realise you have not visited in a while and declined when your neighbors asked two days ago.
The church is welcoming, but Salem is slowly deteriorating in hysteria, and you thank God's mercy as you sell more bread.
[[keep the bakery open]]
[[ close early for church]]
You figure God can await your visit for another day. He is patient and He is kind, but business is not and money's scarce.
The hours pass uneventfully and you spend your time counting your money, re-counting your money and chatting with your colleagues and customers. However, it is quiet, the bakery unusually empty for this time of day and the streets void of people.
The weather seems nice enough and you lay down your oven mittens to step outside and check whether the road is open or an accident has happened, wouldn't be the first horse to trip over cobblestone.
With the door wide open, you crane your head to [[check out the environment]]
Past the midday hour, anxiety starts trickling in and taking hold on you. You dismiss your colleagues for the day and close the store as soon as everyone has left. The leftover bread is free for the mice and you hurry yourself down the cobbled path, past dark wooden houses and noisy livestock.
The church is the most prominent building of the town by far and you push open the heavy doors to be met by cold air and the chior's melody.
As you take your place in the pews, you join alongside the prayer for God's blessing and protection, and donate the week's profits to the church.
[[decide for daily church visits]]
[[decide one visit is enough for a while]]Thank you for playing.
Historians attribute the mass hysteria of the salem witch trials to the fungus ergot, which is found in rye, wheat and other cereals.
Was it self insert baker all along?There is no time to waste. Terror kicks in your adrenaline and you bolt
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[[flee into the town]]
[[flee towards the forest]]
Your pious life of a god-fearing and virtue have upheld your reputation in the community. Such a devoted believer to the Lord could never turn their back on God's love and live a life of devil worship.
Any accusations made against you are quickly shut down by your friends in the church and your loyal customers at the bakery. With neither symptoms of devil worship, nor a declination in your devotion, you live through the hysterics of the Salem witch trials.
[[end]]
With your devotion renewed and your pockets so empty the bishop can neither complain nor contest your love for the Lord, you go back on your way home. Down the same cobble path, past the same houses.
Coins have to keep rolling and you have to provide for the community so you [[keep the bakery open]].
Your legs carry you through narrow streets and dirty alleys until the cobblestone blends into wet dirt and grass. You keep running even as houses make place for large oak trees.
Your lungs burn and you finally slow down a little, trudging through the greenery. You are certain they won't follow you this deep into the surrounding forest, with the threats of savages still so high.
You wander around for a while, hopeless and starved, but save from the gallows.
Subjected to the laws of nature, your judge, jury and executioner end up a black bear protecting her cubs. It is the best [[end]] you could have hoped for.
You have grown up here and you know the roads like no other. The commotion on your heels, you run through alleys and past the houses of the people you've always known.
Word of your arrest rings through the streets and it is not long before people emerge from their houses. The butcher's son blocks your path and you collide with painful force, the succeeding tumblr scraping open your knees.
You are hauled to your knees before you can process what happened, heartbeat in your throat.
"To the [[gallows]] with you," the butcher's son says, his grip on your wrists strong, and you know there is no way out of this no matter how much you plead.Closed doors and windows, not even a whisper carried by the wind.
As you gaze over the expanse of the street, you spot a small group of people towards your left, approaching rapidly, their footsteps filling the eerie silence.
As they draw closer, you notice the gleam on their weapons. "(text-style:"rumble")[Stop right there!]"
Fear seizes you, terror filling your veins like ice as you realise they are coming for you.
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[[stay in place]]
[[run]]Fear keeps you rooted in place. You cannot get your limbs to move and you only watch as they come closer and closer.
Your colleagues crowd around by the windows, but do nothing as you are seized by the guards and your wrists are bound behind your back. Accusations of witchcraft and devil worship are thrown at you, but they are drowned out by your pounding heartbeat.
The most you can hope for is a fair trial, but the past months have taught that accusations of witchcraft lead to the [[gallows]]You are put on trial before the magistrates at the court of Oyer and Terminer. Pleading for your innocence, your prayers go unheard by the might of men.
The warm June sun bathes you in light as it bids you goodbye by the gallows where you meet your [[end]]"(text-style:"shudder")[Elizabeth]?!" you gasp, and indeed, you had heard that she had been showing the tremors and contortions that first started with the young Parris girl and her friend.
You shake your head and wonder just how many more stories like this will emerge in the town. As you join in on the gossip, some of the bread remains forgotten, and when you [[open the bakery]] not everything is out of the oven yet.