I don’t know how I got here. In this jail cell. I suppose it was because of my strange house decor. That could possibly be the answer. Or maybe because I don’t go to church. Either way, it doesn’t change that I was accused of being a witch. Witches don’t exist. Unlike sirens. Or werewolves. And vampires. Okay, maybe they do exist. But they have gone unnoticed. Like my species.

I am a valecodor. It means to change physically within milliseconds, or as humans say, I’m a shapeshifter. Either way, I’m stuck here. In thirty minutes they are going to take me out of this jail cell and test me. They are going to she if I float or sink. Sink, naturally, because that’s just what valecodors do. I’m going to turn into a fish, and swim away. Yeah, we have it hard here in 1692. Lucky. I can see the future and in…mmm…about a hundred years, you will be flying. Oh, well, I have to turn into a fish. Goodbye.

“Annie! Time for your trial!”