Crooked by Candlelight

Here lie the 𝕺𝖑𝖉 𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘. Surrounded by looming walls of shrieking fog, and forever trapped between dusk and the Witching hour.

Somewhere, lost in the shrouded realms of death, lies a land of endless night where long-forgotten horrors are revealed to those who travel through the mist. There in a crooked house lives a Crooked Man, with a crooked walk, and a crooked grin. He twists and shudders and bends beneath a Crooked Tree, whose rotting trunk trembles, and its cloying voice crawls up the bough to whisper the omens of the Old Ones. They speak of a beast that stalks the darkest woods and darkest hearts, a twisting crown of horns upon its head. A fledgling king of sin and vice, head bowed before the might of its queen.

If you lose your way beneath the eternal dusk, and feel a warm breath that chills you to the very bone, run. Follow the songs of harvest time, and before long, you'll find revelry in the dancing shadows of blazing wicker. No matter your story, these lonesome, misty rails will deliver you to where the hallowed cannot save you.

Now is the time to brave the dark wood, beware the witching hour, and weave your own dreadful folktale underneath the Crooked Moon.