Early that morning, a thick fog hung over the prison, wrapping it in an oppressive blanket that mirrored the despair within its walls. Hannah stood at the entrance, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. Flanked by the council members—Travis, Nick, and Steve—she braced herself for what lay ahead. The plan they had devised felt increasingly twisted as the weight of it bore down on her.
As they descended the narrow corridor, the foul smell hit them first—a rancid, overwhelming odor that clung to the air like a vengeful ghost. It seeped through the cracks in the door, a sickening reminder of what lay beyond. The council members exchanged uneasy glances, but Hannah pressed on, her determination fueled by ambition.
The witches followed closely behind, their presence a mix of
