This doesn't happen as much as it used to.
Us walking home together.
- Hmm. - It's the nicest.
Agreed.
- What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving? - It's not that big a holiday for us.
Aunt Hilda and I watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in the morning,
and Aunt Zee watches whatever football games are on.
- Your Aunt Zelda's a football fan? - All contact sports.
Then, it's the movies and Chinese food. How about you guys?
My Grandpa's coming, which means lots of beer-drinking and deer-hunting.
- Since when do you... - I don't.
But since I'm working at the mines now, honoring the "Kinkle legacy,"
- they said I could join 'em. - Just promise me you'll be careful.
I will.
- I'm kind of excited about it. - Do you wanna come in?
To say hi?
Sure.
Actually, Harvey, I forgot, my aunts are having some people over.
Can we take a rain check?
- Uh... Yeah, sure, but... - Thanks so much for understanding.
I'll see you at school tomorrow. Bye.
Bye.
Aunties? Ambrose?
Can anyone explain why it looks like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
has been nailed to our door?
Oh, dear.
I'll get some soap and sponges.
And I'll get a plastic bag to collect the lamb entrails.
It's a message from the Council, Sabrina. It means our family's been selected
to participate in this year's Feast of Feasts.
Feast of Feasts, Sabrina, is one of our coven's holiest holidays.
It's similar to mortal Thanksgiving, but...
The menu is slightly different.
It's meant to honor the single greatest sacrifice a witch
ever made to save her coven.
Praise Sister Freya. May we meet again.
Who's Freya?
A queen amongst witches.
Centuries ago,
the 14 women belonging to the earliest incarnation
of the Church of Night were chased out of the township of Greendale...
into the hills, the forest.
Hilda.
The men of Greendale had hunted all the animals.
So, you know, really, there was nothing to eat.
The witches would've starved and died that winter,
had it not been for the sacrifices of Freya, the youngest, strongest witch.
She, um...
Freya slit her own throat and offered up her body so that the coven would have
sustenance through the cold months, into the spring.
- Praise Freya! - Praise Freya!
Wait, are we seriously talking about cannibalism?
It's not unlike the Donner Party.
The Feast of Feasts is an annual demonstration
of our devotion to the Dark Lord.
Fourteen families from the coven are selected to participate in a, uh...
a lottery.
The families then choose someone to represent them.
- A tribute, as it were. - Only ladies are eligible because...
It is the Dark Lord's will.
In any case...
...the 14 tributes draw lots to see
who will win the honor of being queen.
What do you get as queen?
You get to be the main course.
The queen is eaten? And witches participate in this...
willingly?
It is a sacred tradition.
Our obligation is not to question, it is to obey and participate.
But no one's starving anymore.
And we're talking about murder here.
Ritual sacrifice. It's slightly different.
Since Hilda's been excommunicated, only Sabrina and I are eligible
for the lottery, which means that...
...I will represent the family at tomorrow night's drawing.
No, no, no. No. Aunt Zelda, you can't.
What if you get picked?
Aunt Hilda? Ambrose? Back me up here!
We Spellmans are an endangered species.
I lost my mom and my dad...
I don't want to lose you, too.
That's sweet, Sabrina...
but your Aunt Hilda and I
have participated in many lotteries over the years,
and the Dark Lord has never seen fit to reward us with being queen.
I have no reason to believe this year will be any different.
So please, the Feast of Feasts is happening,
and like it or not, we are participating.
Don't forget...
It's Thanksgiving week, class,
and I want to talk about you and this town.
Your family trees tell the tale of Greendale.
So, how well do you know your roots?
For instance, you, Mr. Kinkle.
When did your family come to Greendale?
I'm not exactly sure.
How did they come to own the mines? And why?
I don't... I don't know.
Well, you've got some digging to do.
All of you do.
The assignment this week is to research your own family history.
It's time we got to know ourselves, and each other... better.
Class is dismissed.
Ms. Wardwell, have you ever heard of witches celebrating
something called Feast of Feasts?
Hmm.
My former coven, the Church of Shadows, had a comparable ritual.
- It's a... - Do you know if there's any way to...
opt out of it?
Or stop it?
Not off the top of my head,
but I could do some research, if you like.
That would be great, Ms. Wardwell, and I'll do the same.
Thank you.
Yes, Sabrina. I'll do my research,
and see if Mr. Kinkle's... yields anything of note.
Grandpa, I'm supposed to write a paper on our family history.
Have we always been miners?
Not always. Back in the early days, when we were Von Kunkles,
we hunted and trapped.
And then, there was that terrible winter.
- And those people. - What people?
Well, no one knew where they came from, but they lived on the outskirts of town.
And the townsfolk used to say that they were tunneling in them hills.
They claimed we stole their land.
Did we? Steal land from them?
The hill people scared the town folk.
And it was decided that someone should get rid of them,
and that duty fell to us.
And after they were gone, we made use of the land.
What happened to the people? The hill people?
You're coming hunting with us this year, ain't you?
I'll show you what happened.
Your Uncle Jesse kept track of the family history.
Things that most people would've got rid of, he kept.
That's Dorothea Putnam.
First of our family to arrive from Europe and settle in Greendale.
Dorothea?
- But she's dressed like a man. - Oh.
It was the frontier.
She lived by herself for a while.
Safer for a woman in that time to... wear men's clothing, I guess.
Those will be her journals.
Never got all the way through them myself.
Nana Ruth?
It's me. Rosalind.
Come closer, baby.
It's been too long.
Bless you, sweet girl.
Nana, at school, we were asked to research our personal histories...
Oh. I thought you came to talk to me because you was worrying
you don't have enough faith, which is nonsense.
- Did Dad call you? - Call me?
No.
The cunning tells me what I need to know.
The cunning... what is that?
It's a... a hunch.
A sixth sense in your bones that helps us to see things...
when others, like your daddy, remain blind.
My cunning started to manifest when I was just about your age.
And yours...
Yours should be starting up now...
if it hasn't already.
I can't believe you're one of the 14 tributes, Prudence.
Why not?
All night long, I prayed and prayed to the Dark Lord, didn't I?
- Yes, but so did I. - So did I.
Don't be jealous, girls. Maybe it'll be your turn next year.
Wait, Prudence, you're a part of this lottery?
There were entrails on her bed, but she's always been lucky that way.
Lucky? Hang on.
You actually want this?
You want to be sacrificed?
More than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
But that's insane. Why?
You wouldn't understand, half-breed, you're not a real witch.
But there is no greater honor.
Imagine, an orphan being queen.
It would be the first time in the history of the Church of Night.
Nicholas, wait. Wait up.
Where do you stand on the Feast of Feasts?
I'm a conscientious objector.
I think it's bonkers.
Thank you.
Your father actually banned Feast of Feasts when he was High Priest.
- He said it was barbaric. - So, why is it happening again?
Well, Blackwood reinstated it the year he became High Priest.
He received a "revelation" from the Dark Lord
to return to our old rituals.
Wait, you're not a tribute, are you?
No. My Aunt Zelda is putting herself forth...
but I wonder if she'd feel differently about the feast
if I were on the chopping block.
Hmm.
Oh, let me burn white, Dark Lord.
Let it be me.
Delighted to see you, Sister Mildred.
Tonight we celebrate a time-honored tradition.
The Feast of Feasts is a reminder...
that even the humblest amongst us can be lifted up...
to sit with the Dark Lord.
And that the survival of the coven is greater
than the life of any individual witch.
Sisters, let the Dark Lord's will be revealed.
Stop!
I'll draw.
I'll draw for the Spellman family.
Sabrina, what in Satan's name are you doing?
I'm upholding a beloved tradition, Aunt Zelda,
unless, of course, you want to admit that this whole thing is barbaric,
as my father believed!
Sister Zelda, is there a problem?
No, Your Excellency.
My brave niece would like to represent the family this year.
So, Sabrina, by all means, go ahead.
Select your paper.
Burn them.
Prudence is queen.
I told you.
Lucky witch.
When will it be my turn?
All hail, Queen of the Feast!
Kneel before your queen!
Do you realize how close you came to being sacrificed?
I didn't think you would let me go through with the drawing.
Oh, so it's my fault that you decided to play a game of chicken with me
in front of the entire coven. That's rich.
Right, well, what's done is done.
Let's just praise Satan. He decided to spare you both.
Not entirely.
Sabrina drew the lot of handmaiden.
Better to be the shepherd than the lamb.
Which means what, exactly? Aunt Zelda still hasn't told me.
The lamb is the queen and the shepherd is the handmaiden.
The queen's exaltation is the highest honor,
so for the next three days,
while the coven fasts and prepares for the feast,
the handmaiden must indulge the queen's every whim.
Great! So I'm supposed to spoil the girl who harrowed me.
Preferably with figs and wild berries to sweeten her meat before the feast.
That's not even funny, Ambrose.
Oh, come on, cous, it is a little funny.
Prudence getting her just desserts by literally becoming the dessert.
Why, hello there.
Who might you be?
I'm Queen of the Feast.
In that case, do come on in.
- Prudence. - Handmaiden.
I assume my room's upstairs?
I'm dying for a warm buttermilk bath.
And a plate of macaroons.
♪ Shiny, shiny ♪
♪ Shiny boots of leather ♪
♪ Whiplash girl child in the dark... ♪
You can do my back now.
Tell me, handmaiden,
will this be your first time supping on witch flesh?
What? I'm not going to eat you, Prudence.
You don't have to go through with this madness, you know.
I mean, just between us, you don't really want to be queen, do you?
Of course I do.
But if you wanted to escape, I would happily look the other way.
Why would I want to escape?
I'm about to be transubstantiated.
Meaning?
After the coven consumes my body,
I will be a part of every single witch in the Church of Night, forever.
But that's not even the best part.
My spirit will reside in the Dark Lord's heart,
alongside the other queens,
basking in the glow of his glorious fire
until the trumpets of the apocalypse are sounded.
And you believe that?
With absolute certainty.
But what if that's not what happens?
What if you're sacrificed and...
it's just over?
Is that what you believe?
I don't know what happens when we die. It's...
It's impossible to know.
Yes, but what do you believe?
Huh?
How sad for you.
Not to have faith in anything.
Where are you going to sleep?
♪ I've gotta make a play ♪
♪ To make my lover stay ♪
- ♪ What would an angel say ♪ - Ambrose?
♪ The devil wants to know ♪
♪ What I need is a good defense ♪
♪ 'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal... ♪
Nicholas?
What are you doing here?
I invited him, handmaiden.
And no plebe can deny a queen on the days leading up to her sacrifice.
It also helps that darling Nicky here is hornier than a toad.
Join us, Sabrina.
Uh...
- Nicholas... - Or we can go to your room.
Just the two of us.
Uh, I...
You're killing the mood, shepherd.
Either get in or get out!
Sleep well, Prudence?
Like the dead.
I was going over what you asked me.
And I still don't know what I believe when it comes to death.
But I believe that life, all life...
even the life of someone who tried to kill me...
is precious.
Witch life, mortal life.
Eternal life, which is what awaits me after the feast.
And there's nothing I can say or do to make you change your mind?
No.
Okay, well...
if there's no talking you out of this.
Wait. Where are you going, handmaiden?
Baxter High.
To live my life.
As fully as possible, for as long as possible.
The shepherd is meant to take care of the lamb.
Hmm.
- You can come with me, if you want. - And why would I do that?
Boys.
Lots and lots of mortal boys.
To torment.
And seduce.
Or both.
Who knows, Prudence, maybe you'll find the meaning of life at Baxter High.
Oh, you had me at boys to torment.
Ms. Wardwell, pardon the, uh, intrusion.
What can I, um...
do for you, Principal Hawthorne?
Any big plans for the holiday weekend?
Because you would be welcome at my house.
I have my own rituals.
I order in.
Perhaps next time.
When I'm in the mood for a real meal.
Oh, yeah.
Guys, this is Prudence.
She's my cousin who's visiting for Thanksgiving.
Prudence, this is my boyfriend, Harvey.
And my two best friends, Rosalind and Susie.
- Very nice to meet you. - You promised me boys.
I wanted you to meet my friends first.
So, what are we talking about?
Uh... My ancestor Dorothea.
She was an early settler in Greendale, and was also a pirate
who helped a group of women fleeing religious persecution from Scotland.
Dorothea Putnam? We learned about her at my school.
She was a true ally to those women. A hero to the marrow.
So I'm discovering.
Did you turn up anything, Harvey?
Yeah, but it's kind of messed up.
Basically, the Kinkles got ownership of the mines in a...
a land grab. Kicked some people out who lived in the hills and took them over.
- What does that mean? - By "kicked out," he means killed.
And by "took over," he means stole.
What did you say your family name is?
- Harvey? - Kinkle.
So you're a descendant of the Von Kunkles, then.
Those "hill people" your ancestors killed were witches.
Which makes your family witch...
Come on, everybody knows witches aren't real.
Your family committed atrocities, and blood-atonement is demanded.
- Kidding! She's kidding. - Wait, hang on.
Uh, I am going to show her the rest of school, but we will see you guys later!
Bye.
Did you honestly think I would find meaning here?
Amongst your mortal friends?
They don't even know the glorious truth of what you are.
- And your beau is a witch hunter! - No, he's not.
My sisters and I have a simple philosophy when it comes to witch hunters:
kill them before they have the chance to kill us.
Prudence, if you lay a finger on Harvey, I swear to Satan, I'll tear you to pieces.
- Save it for Feast Day. - You're deluded.
Girls, girls.
Let's not be catty bitches, hmm?
Sabrina, aren't you gonna introduce me to your new gal pal?
And I know it's witch tradition,
but can you please talk some sense into her, Ms. Wardwell,
and tell her that there's absolutely no purpose to the feast?
Not when the cost is precious life.
But the reward is everlasting glory in the Dark Lord's heart.
And who is this woman that we can discuss our ways with her?
We can trust Ms. Wardwell.
She's a witch, too, excommunicated from another coven.
You expect me to take advice from an excommunicate?
Don't be a snob, Prudence. Ms. Wardwell is incredibly learned.
And, as promised, I have done some digging into the Feast of Feasts
and it's a... a complicated matter.
Now, you may not want to listen to an excommunicate,
but there is someone perhaps you should meet.
A witch who was once Queen of the Feast, until she rejected the crown.
She lives deep in the Greendale Woods.
Moon Valley, if you're brave enough to find her.
A witch spurned queenship?
I don't believe it.
Well, if your faith is as strong as you say it is, Prudence...
what's the harm in hearing her story?
If I go...
I want my sisters to come with us.
The more, the merrier.
And Satan knows who we might chance upon in the woods.
Thanksgiving was Connor's favorite holiday.
Mrs. Kemper, I can't even imagine
how difficult this time of year must be for you.
But he's probably snug-as-a-bug...
in this lovely little urn you picked out for him for his ashes.
Pop that on the mantelpiece, eh?
Are there any leads regarding his, um...
Well, nothing from the police,
but, uh... I found some things.
What sort of things, Mrs. Kemper?
I found a box.
It contained occult objects.
Talismans, vials of blood.
We think that Connor was involved in some sort of satanic cult,
- and that's why he was murdered. - Perhaps I could be of assistance.
Hmm. Do you think you could bring the items here?
Such a good idea.
- What if she's not at home? - She's always at home.
Isn't that right, Dezmelda?
We're witches, like you...
and seek counsel.
What made you run, Dezmelda,
from the Dark Lord?
I didn't run from the Dark Lord.
I ran from my High Priest.
I was a child.
We all were. All 14 of us who took part in the lottery.
Younger than you.
No one questioned why that was.
And I was selected to be queen.
And then...
Her High Priest had a revelation...
delivered unto him by the Dark Lord, allegedly.
The night before the feast,
the High Priest was to...
initiate her.
I was a child.
Rather than allow herself to be violated, Dezmelda fled... into the woods.
She's lived here ever since.
What happened then isn't what Father Blackwood is asking now.
Just listen to your words.
Father Blackwood is asking you to do this thing, not the Dark Lord.
Father Blackwood is a righteous messenger.
But he isn't divine.
He's flesh and blood, just like you and me.
Which means he has faults and he sins.
He can be wrong, he can be corrupted.
This part of the forest is where the Kinkle men have always hunted.
They used to call it Moon Valley.
I'll tell you...
I've seen some strange things out here.
That's a beauty.
It's Harvey's first hunt.
He should do the honors.
Are you suggesting Father Blackwood is acting on his own,
independent of the Dark Lord?
- I'm saying it's possible. - But why?
It's clear Dezmelda's High Priest had an agenda.
But how would my death serve Father Blackwood?
He's taken care of me, raised me, treated me like a daughter.
Which makes what he's doing even more insidious.
He isn't doing anything except carrying out the Dark Lord's will.
And, Sabrina, I want to be queen.
I've dreamed about it.
Why can't you accept that?
What have you done? Who else have you brought to this place?
No one, I swear.
Go, and never come back.
- Ms. Wardwell, what is it? - It was a familiar.
Many live in Moon Valley.
Who would do such a thing?
Men.
- Hey Dad, over here! - Quickly, take the wool yarn.
Form a pentagram around the creature.
Wait, Ms. Wardwell, what are we doing?
Pulling the wool over their eyes.
Don't speak.
Stay very quiet, or the cloaking won't take.
Blood stops here.
Where the hell is the damn thing?
That was a kill-shot. It shouldn't even have gotten this far.
What do we do now?
We keep looking. I want that prize.
Once a hunter, always a hunter.
Harvey's not a hunter.
Though you must admit, he certainly looks the part, Sabrina.
More than looks it.
He is a witch hunter. His family are witch hunters.
He told you himself.
Then blood demands blood, that is the law.
Blood atonement for the murder of this familiar.
Perhaps instead of letting you drag me to the four corners,
my last hours would be better spent flaying your boyfriend alive.
Rending him limb from limb.
Keep away from him. Harvey's not a killer.
You believe that, Sabrina?
Even with what we just saw?
Yes. Yes.
How is your faith in the mortal boy any different than my faith in the Dark Lord?
Why is your faith more valid than mine?
Spellman Mortuary, this is Zelda.
Lady Blackwood. Oh, come straight away.
Nana Ruth, this is my friend from school.
Hello, handsome fellow.
Oh... no, Nana. Her name is Susie.
No, it's okay, Roz.
I asked Susie to come with me because...
Because I scared you the last time.
Nana...
how did us Walker women get this...
cunning?
Generations ago...
our kin accused a woman of being a witch.
The other witches in Greendale,
they cursed us Walker women with blindness.
But witches aren't real, are they, Nana?
And what does being blind have to do with being cunning?
I don't know if being cursed gave us the cunning,
or if it simply brought out what was already there.
But I do know you will lose your vision.
But with the cunning...
you'll be able to see things that others cannot.
And that will save your life.
Harvey.
I thought this year was gonna be different with my dad and my grandfather.
Did something happen?
We all went down to Moon Valley to hunt.
There was a deer... and it was my turn, Grandpa said.
But I...
I couldn't do it.
So Grandpa did it, but I... I should have stopped him. I didn't stop him.
- I should have stopped him, but I didn't. - It's okay.
It's hopeless, Sabrina.
Besides Tommy, I don't... fit in with them.
You're not like them.
Not even close.
You wouldn't hurt a fly.
That's why I love you.
Qui affecto protego, mixtisque iubas
serpentibus et posteris meis stirpiqu.
- Sabrina, thank Beelzebub, I need you. - For what?
I've got Lady Blackwood downstairs on the verge of hysteria,
Hilda is at that ridiculous book store,
but I've got a pot of her calming tea on the stove. Fetch it and come down.
At first, there were cramps, then I saw blood.
I was spotting. My babies, are they all right?
Tranquil thoughts, Lady Blackwood, you're fine.
I can't lose my babies. Faustus would never forgive me.
- I don't want to fail him. - Nonsense. Sabrina, pour the tea.
- Already poured, Aunt Zee. - It's not poison, is it?
Of course not. It's chamomile with a calming tincture.
Drink up.
Finish every drop, that's a good girl.
What's happening? What's wrong with me?
Your blood pressure is abnormally high.
You're having a panic attack.
Have you done any intense spellcasting lately?
Sometimes that can stress a pregnancy.
It was dangerous, but I had to do it.
You understand, don't you?
Of course, Lady Blackwood, I understand you.
You know what they're really like.
Always whispering and... and plotting and...
and I think they're gonna kill my babies.
No one is going to hurt your babies.
You just have a touch of third trimester hysteria, nothing more.
Who's plotting?
Those Weird Sisters. Those sluts.
I won't let them conspire against me. My children will come first.
Why? Why should the orphans wish you any harm?
All three of them, they think they're so clever.
Planning to take what belongs to my children.
They would've done anything. Hurt them, curse them.
So I had to hurt them first.
Kill one, and the others are no threat of consequence.
What did Lady Blackwood mean by "her children" come first?
I wonder if Constance might think Father Blackwood has other children.
He wouldn't be the first High Priest
to have dropped the odd bastard child here and there.
But how would those other children be a threat to Lady Blackwood's twins?
Children born of a High Priest, whether they're legitimate or not,
can lay claim to that title.
So if Father Blackwood had other children out in the world...
They could all make a play for the seat.
Prudence, I need to talk to you.
I'm being fitted for my Feast Day dress.
It was premature of me to accuse Father Blackwood of having an agenda
when he choose you as queen.
Finally. You've come...
Instead, I think it might be Lady Blackwood who wants you dead.
What a blasphemous creature you are.
You said Father Blackwood treats you like a daughter.
Is it possible you actually are his daughter?
Because if you were, Lady Blackwood would see you as a threat.
Have you completely lost your mind?
Maybe. But why does Father Blackwood take care of you?
Because he's charitable.
If you were Father Blackwood's daughter,
you could one day lay claim to the Church of Night,
this school, everything,
but you'd have to get rid of his legitimate heirs first.
Stop this. Please, stop this.
If Lady Blackwood had it out for you, wouldn't it be convenient for her
if you were sacrificed at the Feast of Feasts?
For the last time...
it is the Dark Lord's will that I am to be queen.
What if it's the will of a witch?
Of a pregnant witch with a grudge against you and your sisters?
I just left her at my house.
She was ranting about how you're plotting against her,
and how she needed to hurt you before you could hurt her.
Do you have even a shred of proof?
Besides Lady Blackwood's hysterical ramblings?
No... just a hunch.
But Lady Blackwood was holding the lottery box.
Please, Prudence, I know you have complete faith
that this is all the Dark Lord's will,
and everything is going according to his plan...
but if there's even a shadow of doubt in your mind,
don't you want to know the truth?
She'd be murdering you in front of the entire coven.
If I were to... entertain this fantasy of yours...
how do you suggest we proceed, handmaiden?
Every Queen of the Feast deserves a last supper, right?
Dorothea?
Susie!
Dinner's ready!
This happens every year.
They start drinking before breakfast and pass out before lunch.
So it's just you and me.
I'm okay with that.
Happy Thanksgiving, Tommy.
Happy Thanksgiving, nerd.
Father Blackwood, Lady Blackwood, please, come in.
Happy Thanks... um... Feast of Feasts.
Blessed Feast.
We'll be dining in the parlor this evening.
Wow!
Prudence, you look stunning. You must be filled with such...
I'm filled with ecstasy, Lady Blackwood, yes.
Shall we eat?
If I may.
Thank you to Queen Prudence for the sacrifice she makes tonight...
for the coven.
And where is your sister Hilda?
Given her disenfranchised status,
I didn't think it was appropriate for her to join us.
Also, she's making dessert.
Quiet feast for us, Stolas.
Mmm!
That'll be the takeaway I ordered.
If you're nice, I'll... share.
My... that looks like a heavy pizza.
Would you mind setting it over there for me?
I'm so glad you're here.
I can't tell you how starved I am.
Famished.
Aunt Hilda, you've outdone yourself.
I hope so. This is my mom's secret recipe
when she thought my dad was having an affair.
- How long will it take to work? - Uh, should be instantaneous.
And now, for the pièce de résistance,
my Aunt Hilda's brown butter marchpane cake with brandied currants.
Mmm, looks delicious...
but I want to save room for later.
Nonsense, Lady Blackwood. You're eating for three, remember?
Faustus?
When can one be gluttonous, if not on the Feast of Feasts?
Oh, I agree.
Heartily.
As a recent convert, Father Blackwood, I'm curious,
why did you decide to reinstate Feast Day after my father outlawed it?
When I became High Priest after Edward died,
the Dark Lord revealed
that I must return to our centuries-old traditions.
Sometimes, the old ways are best.
What a divine revelation.
Are you enjoying this year's Feast Day, Lady Blackwood?
Oh, I'm thrilled by it.
Well...
I hope you're satisfied with your last supper, Prudence.
We'll all miss you when you're gone, won't we?
In body and soul.
Mostly body.
I'll miss you so much.
Me, too.
I won't.
And why is that?
You're a stain and we're better off without you.
Constance, Prudence is our queen.
No, she's not my queen, she's a bastard.
Oh.
When was the last time you cast a spell, Lady Blackwood?
The night of Feast Day lottery.
And what spell did you cast?
I enchanted the ballot box to favor Prudence as queen.
Why would you do that?
Because she and her slut sisters are your seed.
Because you are a voracious slut yourself...
and that means trouble for my children.
I'm so sorry, husband.
I'm not sure why I'm unburdening myself like this.
It's because your queen requested a special cake for her last supper.
Aunt Hilda's truth cake.
One bite and you cannot lie.
Constance, how dare you interfere with the Dark Lord's will.
Have you any idea the scandal,
the blasphemy you've brought upon the church?
I'm sorry.
Are you my father, then?
I am.
And my mother?
Dead.
- By your hand? - Sabrina.
Indirectly.
She threw herself in a river
because I would not marry her.
I see.
Are we your daughters, too?
Hmm?
No, you're just orphans.
Prudence?
So you were right, Sabrina.
The Dark Lord doesn't want me to be his queen.
The coven...
The coven must meet straight away.
To redraw for a new queen.
Or... the Dark Lord could come to you with a new revelation.
One that compels you to outlaw the feast.
This year and every year to come.
And what's been revealed at this table tonight...
will never be spoken of again.
Whatever happens... I want to wear the dress...
and... and sit on the throne of skulls.
Can I, please... Father?
♪ Take the hunger inside you ♪
♪ Banish it in the cold ♪
♪ Your flesh to eat Your soul to keep ♪
♪ The Dark Lord shall behold ♪
♪ Queen Freya we extol ♪
I've been fasting for days.
Brethren, sisters, a very unholy night to you all.
And also to you.
Each year, the Feast of Feasts commemorates
the selfless sacrifice that saved our coven.
Praise Freya! Praise Freya! Praise Freya!
However...
...tonight, I must be the reluctant bearer of dark tidings.
In an unexpected turn of events,
through circumstances entirely out of our control...
Prudence Night...
cannot fulfill her duty as Queen of the Feast.
Blasphemy!
We're ravenous.
We must feast!
Moreover! Moreover!
The Dark Lord has revealed to me...
that this year...
there...
shall not be...
Freya lives! Praise Satan!
All Hail, Mildred! Queen of the Feast!
Hail Mildred!
Queen of the Feast!
What's happened?
Uh, that was the coroner's office.
They're bringing over a couple of bodies.
A couple.
Uh... It's... suicides.
Always happens this time of year.
Mortals can be so morose during the holidays.
It's Mr. and Mrs. Kemper.
Aunt Zelda?
Yes, Sabrina?
What would have happened if it was me who was selected queen and not Prudence?
Would you have let them do to me what was done to Mildred?
Never.
But if it was the Dark Lord's will?
It wouldn't have mattered. Now please, Sabrina. I'm tired.
Hey, Nerd.
You know what the best thing about working the Friday after Thanksgiving is?
Getting out of the house?
Time-and-a-half pay.
Sisters.
What are you doing?
Praying.
- Thanking the Dark Lord... - That you're still with us.
Agatha, shouldn't we have invited her?
No, Dorcas.
Better to leave her out of this.
Blood demands blood.
Let sticks and stones break the witch hunters' bones.
Brett, move your head.