This is the third and final installment in Brandon's Witch Child trilogy - be sure to read the other two before this one. Find the first two installments in the posts below.
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The Tale of Zachary Binx
(final instalment of the “witch child” trilogy)
A sweet voice sang from far away in the clouds; it belonged to a platinum-blonde, middle aged witch; she was a Sanderson Sister.
The thump of her broom landing upon the ground of the Binx farmhouse scattered the ducks, geese and cows to and fro.
Zachary Binx was in bed when it happened; the witch, Sarah Sanderson, crept slowly into the room and lullaby-ed his sister, Emily Binx, to a deep sleep, by singing softly whilst forcing her to inhale Wolfsbane and Monkshood crystals; together they form a sleeping potion so strong that it is known as “The Draught of Living Death”.
Zachary awoke hours later, he shook; he screamed.
“EMILY!” He shrieked. “EMILY!”
He dashed barefooted outside, his brother, Elijah, came running.
“Elijah!” said Zachary. “Hast thou seen my sister Emily?”
“Nay, brother,” said Elijah, grimly. “But look; they doth conjure!”
Billowing from the bottom of the steep hill, was puffs and sparkles of glacier blue, lilac, lemon yellow and ochre; the colour of a Witches’ brew.
“Oh, dear lord! The woods!” Zachary shouted. “Elijah, waken Father, summon the others. Go!”
Zachary sprinted so fast down the steep hill, that he got caught on a low branch and just rolled, rolled…
He halted next to a small, slated cottage in the middle of nowhere; the brews excess billowed from the chimney still.
Sarah Sanderson, had only just got there, she had Emily by her side.
“Come, child!” She whispered.
Two more hags were dancing about feebly and drunkenly about the floor, screaming; “dead mans’ toe! Add a dead man’s toe, make it a fleshy one, and add a bit of my own tongue!”
They were Winifred and Mariah Sanderson, also wickedly evil Sisters.
“Ah, Sarah, thee hast arrived, we must prepare the potion and spell now that our little guest of honour has came!” said Winifred.
Winifred’s book-which was given to her by Satan himself- floated to her; the trio of hags edged to the cauldron and recited the spell.
“#Wing of bat, dead woman’s lung. Dead man’s toe, add a bit of my own tongue. #”
The potion fizzed, Winifred took a wooden ladle and was about to feed the life-taking potion to Emily when at last, Zachary piped up.
“NO!” He shouted.
“A boy!” cried Sarah.
“I got him! I knew I smelt a boy!” shrieked Mary.
“Fools, grab him, you idiots!”
Winifred took up her wand and threw a spark line at Zachary; he floated in the air and plummeted to the floor.
“What shall we do with him?” suggested Winifred.
“Put him on a hook, and let me play with him…”said Sarah.
“No!” Snapped Winifred. “His punishment must be more fulsome, more lingering. Ah-ha! I’ve got it! As usual. His punishment shall not be to die, but to live forever with his guilt!”
“Join me, sisters, one, two, three..”
“Twist the bones and bend the back!
Trim him of his baby fat!
Give him fur black as black,
Just…like…this-s-s-s!”
Zachary shrunk down to a black cat.
There was a sudden knock at the door; “Witches!” shouted Zachary’s angry father. “What hast thee done with my son Zachary?”
The witches were taken outside; they stood upon barrels with nooses around their necks.
“I shall ask thee one final time!” Said Mister Binx. “What hast thou done with my son Zachary?”
“I don’t know cat’s got my tongue!” shrieked Winifred, laughing manically.
Mister Binx slid his hand on his neck; the hangman pulled away the barrels.
The Sandersons died.
A sweet voice sang from far away in the clouds; it belonged to a platinum-blonde, middle aged witch; she was a Sanderson Sister.
The thump of her broom landing upon the ground of the Binx farmhouse scattered the ducks, geese and cows to and fro.
Zachary Binx was in bed when it happened; the witch, Sarah Sanderson, crept slowly into the room and lullaby-ed his sister, Emily Binx, to a deep sleep, by singing softly whilst forcing her to inhale Wolfsbane and Monkshood crystals; together they form a sleeping potion so strong that it is known as “The Draught of Living Death”.
Zachary awoke hours later, he shook; he screamed.
“EMILY!” He shrieked. “EMILY!”
He dashed barefooted outside, his brother, Elijah, came running.
“Elijah!” said Zachary. “Hast thou seen my sister Emily?”
“Nay, brother,” said Elijah, grimly. “But look; they doth conjure!”
Billowing from the bottom of the steep hill, was puffs and sparkles of glacier blue, lilac, lemon yellow and ochre; the colour of a Witches’ brew.
“Oh, dear lord! The woods!” Zachary shouted. “Elijah, waken Father, summon the others. Go!”
Zachary sprinted so fast down the steep hill, that he got caught on a low branch and just rolled, rolled…
He halted next to a small, slated cottage in the middle of nowhere; the brews excess billowed from the chimney still.
Sarah Sanderson, had only just got there, she had Emily by her side.
“Come, child!” She whispered.
Two more hags were dancing about feebly and drunkenly about the floor, screaming; “dead mans’ toe! Add a dead man’s toe, make it a fleshy one, and add a bit of my own tongue!”
They were Winifred and Mariah Sanderson, also wickedly evil Sisters.
“Ah, Sarah, thee hast arrived, we must prepare the potion and spell now that our little guest of honour has came!” said Winifred.
Winifred’s book-which was given to her by Satan himself- floated to her; the trio of hags edged to the cauldron and recited the spell.
“#Wing of bat, dead woman’s lung. Dead man’s toe, add a bit of my own tongue. #”
The potion fizzed, Winifred took a wooden ladle and was about to feed the life-taking potion to Emily when at last, Zachary piped up.
“NO!” He shouted.
“A boy!” cried Sarah.
“I got him! I knew I smelt a boy!” shrieked Mary.
“Fools, grab him, you idiots!”
Winifred took up her wand and threw a spark line at Zachary; he floated in the air and plummeted to the floor.
“What shall we do with him?” suggested Winifred.
“Put him on a hook, and let me play with him…”said Sarah.
“No!” Snapped Winifred. “His punishment must be more fulsome, more lingering. Ah-ha! I’ve got it! As usual. His punishment shall not be to die, but to live forever with his guilt!”
“Join me, sisters, one, two, three..”
“Twist the bones and bend the back!
Trim him of his baby fat!
Give him fur black as black,
Just…like…this-s-s-s!”
Zachary shrunk down to a black cat.
There was a sudden knock at the door; “Witches!” shouted Zachary’s angry father. “What hast thee done with my son Zachary?”
The witches were taken outside; they stood upon barrels with nooses around their necks.
“I shall ask thee one final time!” Said Mister Binx. “What hast thou done with my son Zachary?”
“I don’t know cat’s got my tongue!” shrieked Winifred, laughing manically.
Mister Binx slid his hand on his neck; the hangman pulled away the barrels.
The Sandersons died.
By Brandon "Camel" H
Age 10
Class 6KR
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