My Great Grandmother
I never knew my great grandmother, but I always heard stories about her. She was a witch, they said, a practitioner of dark magic and evil spells. She lived in a secluded cabin in the woods, where she performed her rituals and sacrifices. She was feared and hated by everyone in the town, and no one dared to cross her path. One day, she was found dead in her cabin, surrounded by candles and bones. The townsfolk rejoiced, thinking they were finally free of her curse. But they were wrong. They didn't know that she had left behind a legacy of horror and madness, a curse that would haunt her descendants for generations. I am one of those descendants. And this is my story. It all started when I was a teenager. I was always fascinated by the occult, and I wanted to learn more about my great grandmother's secrets. I found an old diary in the attic, written by her in a strange language. I managed to decipher some of the pages, and I discovered that she had a ritual to summon a powerful ...