"Stop, please," I whimpered driven to begging by the witches insane-like personality. The witch seemed to like this. She started to slowly smile again.
"No I can't do that honey," she replied her smile slowly growing."Instead I will tell you this... Goodnight," I heard the cackle of the witch, and then she finished the last stitch, and everything vanished.
YOU ARE READING
The Weavers of Illusions
FantasyMax was a normal boy, in Chicago, Illinois. He didn't do anything out of the ordinary, but Max started having the same odd dream on his 11th birthday, though he never thought twice about them. Untill the day after his 12th birthday. Someone walked...
