Salem Town,
1692

ANGER ROARED THROUGH HER body as she raced through her family's extravagant home. Her flesh was flushed red, and sparks were flying off her fingers. How dare he! She thought, grinding her teeth. The audacity he had!

She shook her head, ignoring the burn of tears. Even though she was falling apart, she had to hold herself together. The woman paused, allowing the pressure in her chest to decrease. If she wanted to do this right, she could not afford any emotion getting in the way. Turning towards the steps of the basement, Lavern steeled herself and then walked through the threshold.

The immense power radiating from the varying objects filled her bones, sending pleasurable waves from her toes to her ears. She sighed, enjoying the feeling. The magic now coursing through her veins gave her even more confidence.

Stepping towards the pedestal that held her prized grimoire, Lavern began to think of how to best proceed. She wanted Lawrence to suffer. He had fallen for another while they were promised. It was a blight against her image. If she couldn't keep a young man happy enough for him to marry her, then her entire reputation would crumble. She stifled a sob. How dare he!

Lavern carefully opened the book, scanning the withered pages. She could easily place a death curse against Amantha, thus breaking the fool's heart. No, it was not the girl's fault. Lawrence most likely seduced her solely to take her virtue. He was the man to do that. Anger once again shot through her, causing a scowl to break out across her stony face. Lavern shook her head, thinking once again. Perhaps a spell to cause Amantha to fall out of love with him? No, that'd be too easy for him to still love another.

She needed to ensure he would be alone forever. Lavern's eyes widened. That was it. A curse to cause him to forever be alone! She withheld a cackle as she flipped through the pages. Once she found the desired spell, she quickly gathered the ingredients.

A dead man's toe, a rat's left ear, a poisoned leaf, and lastly, a hair from the intended victim.

The last one was simple. She simply snuck into her house and found the hat he had dropped when she blew up on him. After taking one of his light brown hairs out, she dropped it into the bubbling cauldron. A light blue mist slowly billowed out of it. Lavern chuckled as she watched it shake.

Once the cauldron finally calmed itself, Lavern reached in and pulled out the rose. It had an ethereal blue color. While it seemed a foolish thing to color it as, Lavern was certain blue was Amantha's favorite color. This would make Lawrence want to pick it for her, and then...

Well, it would be a joyous thing to see. Lawrence would lose all of his loved ones and be cursed to forever live alone. She grinned, holding back another cackle. Maybe that was why he didn't care for her. She cackled too much.

Lavern carefully made her way towards the woods. She placed the rose within a normal rose bush. She watched as the stem quickly implanted itself into the bush itself. Lavern then placed another spell that would draw Lawrence to the bush.

After making sure everything was in place, Lavern went and hid in one of the bushes nearby. The waiting game began.

It only took Lawrence a few minutes to reach the bush. Lavern watched in anticipation before Lawrence noticed the flower. "What are thee?" He whispered as he walked to the flower.

The young man bent down. His blue-grey eyes reflected the lovely blue of the petals. Lavern almost felt bad for ruining his life. However, he had almost ruined hers, so it wasn't the worst he could do.

Lawrence gently reached forward before pulling the rose off the bush. Amazement filled his features as he twirled it in between his fingers. One of the thorns suddenly turned black and grew a bit longer. Lavern grinned as it imbedded itself into Lawrence's finger. Lawrence cried out, dropping the rose.

Lavern stood up, brushing her dress clean. She then walked towards Lawrence. "Art thee humor good now, Lawrence?"

The young boy whipped around. "Lavern! I didst not notice thee. What art thee doing hither?"

"I shouldst asketh thee the same question." She turned her attention. "What an interesting flower. Who is't f'r?"

Lawrence immediately looked bashful. "I simply did see t. It's not f'r anyone."

"Art thee sure?"

"Aye."

Lavern frowned. "Thou art most unfortunate then."

"What doth thee cullionly?"

"Yond did rise hast a beshrew imbedd'd in t. Thou art cursed, Lawrence."

Lawrence reeled back. "Thee has't gone nimble-footed!"

Lavern let a cackle slip out. "Nay, thou art. You've scorn'd me, Lawrence. I couldst not sitteth idly by while thee did hang 'round another mistress"

"Lavern, thee are-"

"The did rise is curs'd. Thee shalt liveth high-lone still."

Recognition slowly filled Lawrence's face. "Thou art a beldams! Flibbertigibbet's agent!"

Lavern cackled. "Aye. Though, thee would beest moo believable. After all, didst thee not seduce a young maiden while engaged? Flibbertigibbet's worketh."

"Nay!"

"I feeleth faint 'round thee! Thou art cursing me!"

Lawrence tried to talk to her when he suddenly stiffened. Lavern cackled as Lawrence fell to the ground. She watched the curse spread from his finger. The darkness covered him, and then a strange green thread wrapped around him, binding the darkness into him. As soon as it was complete, the darkness vanished. Lavern grinned before turning and running to the town.

"Holp! Holp me! Thither's a warlock! He's attempt'd to beshrew me! Thee wilt holp me!"