“Okay, so you’re from Witchen Willows Village?” Rupert asked, his blue eyes wide and his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, I’ve said that about a million times!” I answered, getting more and more agitated by the minute.

“It’s only because of the horror stories people have about that village.”

“Horror stories?” I replied.

“Yeah, according to my pa, the lucky people that escape say that it was mental torture and that the mayor of that place brainwa-“

Rupert never got a chance to finish his sentence because suddenly, a loud crash could be heard from less than a mile away.

“No. No, no, no. This is bad. Really, really bad.”

“What? Rupert, what?” I cried, panicking, “What’s bad? What was that noise?”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a haystack. This sudden movement shook me and I felt dizzier than I had all day. I was still exhausted from lack of sleep and walking around until two o’clock in the morning.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, loudly.

“Stormie! Shh!!” Whispered Rupert, covering my mouth with his hand. A thin, tall figure walked into the barn, as we watched from behind the haystack. And that’s when I saw the man’s face. He was my dad’s best friend. Suddenly, it dawned on me. They were hunting someone. And that someone, was me.

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