There is something about this place. It’s weird and strange. It draws out the darkness that I try to hide in my safe little place. Every time I’m here, stories of strife and horror brew within my mind.
The crows and the ravens caw to me. Giving me permission to tell the stories of the things they see. They release the words from the grey clouds as they skydive to the ground.
Listen to me! Listen to me! You are our storyteller. You are our medium.
Listen to me! Listen to us! You bare our witness. You hold our trust.
Sing with us! Sing with us! You are one of the witches. You are one of us.