
Within that house, three maiden aunts cared for a strangely quiet girl named Deirdre. Deirdre sat nearly catatonic on the porch, never speaking to anyone, although a succession of nurses had quit citing vague "attacks." She had a regimen of thorazine injections that would have killed someone unaccustomed to the drugs, and her aunts seemed content to leave her that way. Her only visitor was a strange man who seemed to disappear into the mist moments after he was seen. That man was the devil. The aunts were witches. Deirdre was the chosen one. And this...is the Witching Hour.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.