The Witch of Hollow Lane

The House at the End of the Lane:

Hollow Lane wasn’t like other streets. Tucked between two ordinary neighborhoods, it was a place where the air hummed with something unseen—where the trees whispered secrets when the wind blew just right. And at the very end of the lane, where the cobblestones cracked and the streetlamps flickered, stood an old, ivy-cloaked house with a black door.

Twelve-year-old Elara Finch had lived in Hollow Lane her entire life, but she had never dared to go near that house. The townsfolk called it "The Witch’s House," though no one had seen the witch in decades. Some said she had vanished. Others whispered that she never left at all.

But one autumn evening, as Elara hurried home from school, she heard something impossible—a voice, soft and crackling like dry leaves, calling her name.

"Elara…"

She froze. The voice had come from the house.

Against every instinct, she turned toward it. The black door creaked open on its own, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with flickering candles.

"Come in, child."

Elara’s heart pounded, but her feet moved on their own. The moment she stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind her.

The Witch in the Shadows:

The air inside smelled of old books and burnt herbs. At the end of the hallway, in a room filled with jars of strange liquids and floating lights, sat a woman in a tattered velvet chair. Her silver hair glowed in the firelight, and her eyes—one blue, one gold—locked onto Elara.

"You’ve been expecting me," the witch said.

Elara swallowed. "I—I don’t even know you."

The witch smiled. "But I know you, Elara Finch. You are the last of the Hollow bloodline. And magic runs in your veins."

Elara’s breath hitched. "That’s impossible. My parents were ordinary. They died in an accident."

The witch’s expression darkened. "No accident. They were taken by the same force that has been draining magic from this world. And now… it’s coming for you."

The Hidden Truth:

The witch—who introduced herself as Morganne—explained that Hollow Lane was once a sanctuary for magical beings. But a shadowy force, known only as The Hollowing, had been hunting down the last witches, stealing their power.

"Your parents hid you," Morganne said, "but the protection spell is fading. The Hollowing can sense you now."

Elara’s hands trembled. "What do I do?"

Morganne placed an ancient book in her hands. "You learn. You fight. Or you disappear like the rest of us."

The First Spell:

For weeks, Elara trained in secret. She learned to summon fire with a snap of her fingers, to make objects float, to hear the whispers of the wind. But the more she practiced, the more she felt something watching her.

One night, as she recited an incantation, the candles in Morganne’s house blew out at once. A cold presence filled the room.

"It’s here," Morganne hissed.

The windows rattled. Shadows slithered across the walls like living things.

"Elara," Morganne said urgently, "repeat after me—

‘By blood and bone, by light and stone,

I claim the power that’s my own!’"

Elara shouted the words—and a blinding light erupted from her hands. The shadows shrieked and recoiled.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Morganne smiled. "You’ve just taken your first step, child. The Hollowing won’t stop. But neither will you."

A Destiny Unfolds:

Elara knew her life would never be the same. She was no longer just a girl from Hollow Lane.

She was the last witch.

And her destiny had only just begun.

To Be Continued…

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