The Witching Hour

It was midnight, and all was quiet in the small town of Salem. The only sound was the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. But something was stirring. Something evil.

The witches were gathering. They met in a clearing in the forest, their cackling laughter echoing through the night. The leader of the coven, a ancient crone, raised her arms and called upon the powers of darkness.

The ground began to shake and the trees warped and twisted. An unholy light appeared in the sky, and the witches danced around the fire, their frenzy building. The Witching Hour had begun.

The townspeople were unaware of the danger that was lurking in the shadows. But soon they would feel the wrath of the witches. The creatures of the night would be drawn to the power of the coven, and the town would be plunged into darkness. Unless someone can stop the witches before it’s too late.

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