Part 8: Chase Of Witch

As we journeyed towards our destination, the weight of our mission hung heavy upon us, each passing moment filled with anticipation and dread. The heavy weapons we carried served as a grim reminder of the task that lay ahead—to confront the witch and put an end to her reign of terror once and for all.

As we arrived at the small town, the hustle and bustle of everyday life unfolded around us, a stark contrast to the darkness that lurked beneath the surface. People went about their daily routines, oblivious to the dangers that lurked in the shadows, their lives untouched by the looming threat of the supernatural.

Our guide, the Crow agent, led us through the maze of streets and alleys, his demeanor tense and wary. He spoke of the witch with a mixture of fear and reverence, warning us of her formidable power and the dangers that awaited anyone foolish enough to cross her path.

"I will take you to her," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I will not go near her myself. She is too dangerous, too unpredictable."

His words sent a chill down my spine, the gravity of our situation weighing heavily upon us. But there was no turning back now—we had come too far to falter in the face of adversity.

As we parked the car on a quiet corner, our eyes trained on the distant silhouette of the witch's home, anticipation gripped us like a vice. The Crow agent's plan was simple—we would wait for the witch to return home, and then, and only then, would we make our move.

Hours passed in tense silence, the minutes stretching into eternity as we watched and waited with bated breath. And then, as if on cue, a car pulled up in front of the witch's home, its occupants—a man and a schoolgirl—emerging from within and disappearing behind closed doors.

We observed their movements through the lens of our binoculars, our hearts pounding in our chests as we waited for the witch herself to make an appearance. But as the minutes turned to hours, there was no sign of her return, no hint of her presence beyond the walls of her secluded abode.

Frustration gnawed at the edges of our resolve, uncertainty clouding our minds as we grappled with the realization that our mission may have hit a dead end. But even in the face of adversity, we knew that we could not afford to give up—not when so much was at stake, not when the fate of Sarah's father hung in the balance.

And so, as the night stretched on into the small hours of the morning, we remained vigilant, our eyes fixed on the witch's home, our determination unwavering in the face of uncertainty. For though the path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, one thing remained certain—we would not rest until the witch was brought to justice and Sarah's father was returned to safety, no matter the cost.