The Witch of Blackwater Falls



As thunder split the sky and rain lashed the earth, she emerged from the shadows of the ancient forest, a figure draped in midnight. The Witch of Blackwater Falls—feared, whispered of, and never seen—stood at the edge of the raging torrent, her eyes glowing with unnatural light.
They said she was born of storm and sorrow, cursed by the moon and blessed by the old gods. Her presence twisted the air, bending lightning and storm to her will. With each step she took, the river swelled higher, as if drawn to her power.
Tonight, she had returned—not as a myth, but as a reckoning.