A middle aged man sat in his office, the year is 1692 and he was facing a difficult problem rising in Salem. Twirling a quill in his left hand, he looked over every missing person account. They all were young boys and girls, an interesting little fact indeed.

As he set down the quill written papers, he had to see the bodies themselves before claiming them as dead. But as of right now, he had no evidence to do anything but watch as such claims have been made. Although he did send a couple townsfolk after the locations last seen, those townsfolk were found hanging like Witches.

This was becoming more and more of a problem for the man, as he could not let Salem fall into mortal danger. This town was his home, and these people were his people to care for. He could not let this fall so easily, and he just awaited word from his partners investigating this case.

He leaned back in his wooden chair, and stared out the window deep into the unknown forest. Where these disappearances have been happening, and where those townsmen were hanged. What lay within was the question. Were the stories told by the Indians true? Was there something lurking in there beyond their reach?

The townsfolk were quick to blame Witchcraft, and the man had issued about a dozen investigations on those who leave unexpectedly into the forest that he did not dispatch there. But very little came up, and almost none of them were convicted like the other witches that had been unmasked before. And even though some were convicted, these disappearances kept filing immediately two weeks afterwards. So the investigations continued, day and night with switching shifts.

Deep inside, something told the man that the townsfolk were right about there being a witch out there. But he had as much evidence as anyone else, none. There were no eyewitnesses, no records, nothing that could point at witchcraft being at play in that forest. All but a small cottage rumored to be there, but never found by anyone.

Giving a sigh, the man let his head bang against his wooden desk. He groaned in agony, oh how he wished he could go back to bed right now. How he wishes he could just get this over with. But no, he was stuck trying to help the officers find this mystery so he could explain it to the commoners.

The wolf that clenched his heart still has yet to release its grip. And he still has to deal with the agony from it. As he lifted his head and began twirling with the quill again, he noticed that it was surprisingly quiet in Salem. Something that wasn't very common on days such as this.

As he got up from his seat, he set down his quill on the desk next to the reports; and grabbed his jacket. He turned the handle, and left the office to head out of the building and into the streets. He couldn't help but grow suspicious of the quiet town. Something didn't seem right about this, as it was the exact same as when those missing people occurred as the reports say.

As he opened the door to the outside, the cold didn't bother him as it seeped in everywhere. He just pressed forward on a nice walk, stopping by and chatting with a couple old friends. But continued forward on his trek towards the forest, his coat keeping him nice and warm as the night crept around from the corner like a wolf on the hunt.

He borrowed a gun from a nearby friend, and went onwards with the journey towards the mystery forest where nothing is sure but a slight chance of Satan himself lurking in the darkness in the depths.

As he continued on his trek, he noticed something was off the deeper and deeper he went into the forest. He gazed around at the trees that surrounded him, it seemed like they had faces that cried out to him. But he ignored it, dismissing it as a fragment of his imagination; but it still unsettled him deeply.

The deeper he went the more and more clearer the forest shows more and more terrors as the trees seem to be decomposing around him. In a way, they seemed as if they were actually human bodies buried in the ground.

Then he noticed a smoke bellowing in the distance and he approached with caution, the trees getting darker and darker around him.

The very next day, the middle aged man was found dead. Hanged by his own jacket from the trees near Salem, and on the same day a young boy returned from the forest announcing the presence of a witch in the very same forest; who killed the three other kids he was with. Days later, the witch was caught, trialed, and hanged for her crimes.

Months later, a body was found dead not far from the house presumed to be the witch's. and talk went about that the witch now haunts that old house so the place was boarded up from the outside.

Never to be opened for millennium.