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[center][color=black]In the small town of Salem, autumn  had just blinked its wary eyes. A single golden leaf would detach from an undressed tree, pirouetting gracefully through chilled air. The day was young, the sun peeked shyly through thinned gray clouds like a stained glass window. Petals born in the spring and summer curl and wilt the color of dirt, leaving the earth bare and uncovered. Sidewalks lay slicked with the residue of last nights rain, the familiar scent of wet concrete mixing with airborne oils emitting the evocative fresh rain aroma. 

An intense feeling of uncertainty would loom ominously, a feeling one could not pinpoint the source of. All seemed well, however rumors of an illness of sorts would spiral through the small town of Salem. Young girls were becoming defiant, boys disobeying their fathers. It was as if a disobedience bug had bitten at random. The instances would be hushed nearly as quickly as they had risen, no other case of said "illness" becoming known. Normal people would forget the rumors, moving on with their lives.. But those who knew too well the history of Salem would perk their ears, [i]did this mean witches were nesting in Salem once more? [/i]

The possibility was not inconceivable, for Salem had been their ancestors home. The town was forever marked, almost as if the place sang out like a Siren to those who could listen, luring the children of sin out of hiding.

[i][b]Come, little children
I'll take thee away
Into a land
Of enchantment

Come, little children
The time's come to play
Here in my garden
Of shadows

Follow, sweet children
I'll show thee the way
Through all the pain and
The sorrows

Weep not, poor children
For life is this way
Murdering beauty and
Passions

Hush now, dear children
It must be this way
To weary of life and
Deceptions

Rest now, my children
For soon we'll away
Into the calm and
The quiet[/b][/i][/color]
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