Task Five: The Final Speech - Lucille Carginal

73 10 3
                                    

"Wake up, whore."

The voices of some sort of guard allow me to swim up from the last slumber I'm ever going to have. Unless you count death as eternal sleeping, then that would've been my penultimate rest. 

Opening my eyes, the first thing I see is the beefy man grumbling at me to wake up. Today is my last day in Salem. Today, for the last time, I'll be able to see this town, be able to see the people who accused me of all of these crimes. I wanted to spend my last day on this planet doing everything and anything to defy the law. But no, my last hour is spent looking at a town of accusing bastards, reciting my speech over and over until my new necklace cuts my breath. 

Forcing myself off of the floor, I grunt in discomfort; the left side of my neck feels pained as I attempt to stretch. My arms and legs click as I arch my back, desperate to relieve the tight agony in my body. According to the trial, I have been deemed the guiltiest of these crimes - I'm sure it's because I'm not Christian - and therefore, I'm going to receive the first lynching. 

As the barred door slides open, the town of a Salem is revealed to me for the last time. It still seems like a smack in the face every time I think about my death. This is my death date, this is my last day to breathe, walk, talk, exist. That makes me wonder what they'll do with my body: will they bury it by the victims of the killing spree? Will I be cremated? Will they dump me in a river and let me float down the country?

"Lucille Carginal, Joana Bradbury, Sybil May and Jezebel Tinker, you four are sentenced to death for murder, witchcraft, consorting with Satan himself and many other acts that defy Salem's policy," Elijah yells at the four of us as these men grab our writers violently. Already, I feel the callous look in the man's eyes as his palm forces the cut to dig deeper than it already has. "Lucille, you're up first."

The other three get to watch my death alongside each other's deaths. In some way, it's better for me to go first; if I had to watch Joana die, there'd be dozens of tears sliding down my face. That bartender who allowed me to stay at her place for six hours a day, the lady who gave me free drinks because of her kind-heartedness. I have a feeling that watching Sybil and Jez die would be super upsetting too.

As we're lead to the town square, I can't help but focus on Elijah's face. Was he alive that entire time? When I found that blood-soaked note with the swirly and incredibly neat handwriting, had he written it moments before my arrival? Another question arises: how did he know I was going to arrive? The questions don't stop as I'm led through the town. 

Also, why are us four suspicious? For all we know, this could've been by anyone of Salem. Then again, we're the ones who were found in the Town Hall. I guess I'm just looking for an excuse not to die. In Salem, there are so many people that I haven't seduced, so many people I haven't had a drink with before. These people now, however, are nothing but blaming assholes. The trials weren't even fair - I admit to being at the scene of Thaddeus and Murray's deaths, and I'm automatically sentenced to death?

Townsfolk shun me as I hang my head. This is my walk of shame; I feel embarrassed to be here. It's not a case of being easily judged and, therefore, caught that annoyed me, but the fact that the execution couldn't be more public. At least by Jez's death, a few people would've left the Town Square to continue with their daily lives. I mean, it gets boring after four lynches, right?

Two men place a stool in front of me; I stand on top of it and allow the burly men to securely fasten the noose around my neck. People continue to hiss and boo as I glance at them. This entire ordeal is surreal, like, it actually shocks me that I'm about to die. You'd think I'd be more relaxed knowing the exact time I'm about to die, but no, I'm panicking, on the verge of tears. My emotion can only be described as anguished mortification.

"Lucille, you may begin your speech. Your final speech."

Clearing my throat, I blink back the tears and let my lips part. This is my moment, these are the last words I have. My voice will be buried with my body after this; I can't let this not count. "Hello, Salem. I'm Lucille Carginal. Tailor by day, maid by night, witch whenever I have time." Gasps fill the town square as everyone listens to my words. "Yes, that's right. I'm a witch. To be specific, I'm the witch of seduction."

People remain silent; I like the attention that I'm receiving. Knowing that I'm about to die is petrifying, I won't lie. Yet, knowing that people want to acknowledge my existence, listen to my desperate words, actually settles me slightly. "My role amongst the witches? Seduction. My role wasn't to kill, but to seduce a town member and stop them from finding me out. The night before Lydia's death? Yeah, I had sex with her. Best decision I've made as a witch, may I add."

Joana looks at me in the eye, and I immediately know that I may as well reveal her. "The killing? That was left to my other two friends. One has already passed; does the name Joseph Carlyle ring a bell? The other? Joana Bardbury, the town's bartender. We are, collectively, responsible for the deaths of many of the townspeople." It's true, and I'm sorry for what we've done, but I can't change the past and I wouldn't change it if I had the chance - I did what was right for me. Selfish, I know, but that's just me.

"Sybil, I know that you were the Joker, that's why none of us touched you. Jez, you were this town's guard, our watching wolf. Just because I'm not an insomniac like Murray was, it doesn't mean I can't figure things out for myself," I spit. Outrage fills my body as the noose rubs against my neck. These last two minutes will involve sharp breaths, a heaving stomach and surfacing tears. 

"I never wanted to die like this," I weep, letting the brimming tears slowly slide down my face. "All I am to this town is some slut who seduces random people and - apparently - dances with the devil for fun. Not that my words change who I am or what I've done. However, I will point this out: just because I'm guilty, it doesn't mean that I'm the worst one standing here."

My emotions finally get the better of me; I weep like a baby as I stare at the other three criminals, the ones waiting for their own nooses. "To the Carlyle family: I'm so damn sorry for your loss, followed by your own deaths. Mina, I hope to see you in whatever heaven or hell we're sent to. Elijah, just a little advice for the future: never lie to a liar, never kid a kidder. And finally, to my fellow witches: may we remain victorious amongst these civilians. Goodbye Salem."

Joana's emerald eyes pain me as a taintless tear slides down her pale face; closing my eyes to block the agony of her pretty face, I take the deepest breath I've ever had to take and let them do their worst. From under my feet, I feel the stool removed; I can't help but let out a choked yelp as the noose tightens.

This isn't a feeling I ever wanted to experience, but hey, nothing in Salem is my choice. This burning feeling rushes up and down my throat - the kind of feeling you have before you throw up. I'm not going to be throwing my guts up though. 

Instantly, I feel my arms dangle limply by my hanging body. The blood, slowly but surely stopping the circulation in my body, refuses to reach the numb fingers and toes I have. It hurts for me to open my eyes, but then again, nothing is painless right now. Staring at my paling body, I curse under my breath - they've found me out. Giving into the noose, I take my very last breath and let the darkness of death consume me. The town have eliminated Salem's witches, along with a serial killer and many other townspeople.

But nothing can eliminate my actions or the impact I, Lucille Carginal, have had on the town of Salem.

Author Games: SalemWhere stories live. Discover now