Elizabeth Laprade had been trapped in stone for 200 years. She had been cursed to remain frozen until a time when the last story of what she had done had been forgotten. She silently watched the world pass her by from the cliff face she was now a part of. Trees grew up and were felled. Houses were built along the riverbanks below. Not even the animals that occasionally crawled on the rocks or the birds that perched and nested nearby seemed to notice anything was amiss.
She had spent many years watching the people that used the river. Children came and went. She would watch as they aged into adulthood, had children of their own, and, eventually, brought their grandchildren back down to the river. Then one day two children she’d never seen before walked beneath her to play on the shore.
“Did you ever hear about the witch that used to live around here?” she heard the boy ask the girl.
“No! Don’t try to scare me, Charlie. It won’t work.”
“She would catch little kids like you and take them back to her cave,” said the boy.
Elizabeth smiled inside as the memories filtered back. It had been so long ago.
The boy continued. “One year she killed almost a dozen! Her name was—,” he hesitated. “Her name was Victoria,” he finished.
Elizabeth felt something. Movement! She wiggled her finger and small pebbles crumbled away.
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