Away from here in a magical theatre of a township whose inhabitants were Heroes, Demons, mythical superhuman figures, Dragon-slayers, Demons, Goddesses, Celestial warriors, giants, Angels, Bodhisattvas, dwarfs, crusaders, Elves, Saints, sorcerers, Infernal spirits, Goblins, Knights, Emperors, Werewolves, the Lotus Lord of Dance, Vampires, the Wise Old Man, the Divine Child, the One, the Trickster, the shape-shifter, the tamer of monsters, the Mother of Gods (sadly no Mother of Dragons), the wanderer and many others, there lived amongst them in total seclusion, a really evil Witch.
The Witch, in her prime, was so evil that she had tamed the Devil as her disciple. But long gone were those days and now she was getting older and her bubbling cauldrons and her magic spells had long lost its charm and her broomstick lay in a corner gathering dust. She was webby and lonely and too weak to hop on her broom stick for a joy ride. For most of the time, she sat by her cold stone fireplace cursing the humans that walked the earth and beyond. She desired company. Someone to talk to. Someone with whom she could share the secrets of her witchcraft and her woeful anecdotes.