Bury her deep in the ground and seal her up forever. Build a wall around her so that her evil cannot seep out and infect those we love. They lie sleeping around her, waiting for the last trump of the archangel to wake them, that they may rise again. She will not rise, she must not rise, she must sleep forever.
For she is woman, she bleeds, and her blood infects us all.
It corrupts, it tempts, it twists our minds, and she must be purged from us.
There are so many words for her; bitch, whore, slag, harlot…but we shall call her witch. For she must be magical, nothing human could twist us so. Nothing human could take our hearts and bend them to her will so easily. Nothing human could so utterly enslave us, so completely tame us.
We are men, we are power and control. We are men, we will not fear her. We are men, we will kill to be free.
We saw her, we know what she did, or, at least, we were told, and that is good enough, Rumour may convict. Rumour must convict the witch.
Bury her deep.
Build a wall around her.
For she bleeds.