I have spent years being told to keep clear of the Dark Forest, where creatures hover at the tree line and I am the prey they want.
My line comes from the witches of Salem, who came to Hallow looking for refuge and instead passed down a curse believed to damn our souls.
Sleep brings two nightmares: a terrified girl clawing away from a vulgar creature, and three dangerously intoxicating demons drawing me in to ease their thirst.
I wake from each one in a cold sweat, no longer able to treat my aunt’s old warnings as harmless folklore.
Those dreams keep circling sacrifice and a soul already promised, while whatever waits beyond the trees has not stopped looking for me.
