The chicken walks into the kitchen and pecks at random crumbs on the floor.
'This place is incredible. Do you think I could get a tour?' I ask Yiselda.
'Of course, as a Midnight Coven member, this is also your home now,' she says proudly. She leads us down a lengthy corridor. I'm perplexed because even though the Covenstead appeared to be quite significant from the outside, this hall seems to be at least still twice the outside length. As we proceed down the corridor, I notice that there are no doors, only old picture paintings of witches who were members of the midnight coven until they died or were killed. I come to a halt in front of one to observe its beauty more thoroughly. I take a step back. As the artwork moves, I leap back and scream. The witch in the portrait briefly bend
