She rules the darkside

She has lived in the old house on the hil for a century. No one ever sees her. You know when she is there. A chill up your spine. A cold breeze from no where rushes past your cheek with iced fingers. She calls you to come join her. You tell your self not to go to Staten Island. Yet again on the night of the new moon here you are. Feeling her close to you. You have no control.....

Palavras-chave:

BeWitching Haunted night

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