February 23rd, 1692.

James surveyed the town, ensuring everything was in order before proceeding with his usual routine. Unaware of the lurking danger, the so-called witches hid in the safety of the forest that separated society from the wilderness.

James stopped by the baker's shop to buy himself bread and cake, completely unfazed by the unfortunate souls he had taken in the name of the church and the people. With a clear conscience, he had no regrets.

He paid the baker and continued down the dirt streets to the docks. Greeting the fishermen and sailors as he checked in on them on behalf of the mayor, "Evening gentlemen!"

The workers returned his greeting as they dock their catch for the day. "The lord has blessed us again with this catch," James noted with a smile on his face, blissfully unaware of the ominous sign in the ocean waters turning blood red.