Hocus Pocus is not all it seems. “You have come to me seeking answers to questions, no?” said the mystic.
I had traveled far to find the mystic on the advice of a close friend who understood my situation. “Yes, I was given your name by a friend who has used your services in the past,” I said.
“He must be a trusted friend if he has been to me and told you such,” said the woman.
I explained that my reason for coming was not strictly personal; my business also needed her particular skills.
“Waste no more time with this chit-chat. Sit, and I will draw the cards and let the hocus pocus tell us,” the woman instructed.
I sat before a large wooden table containing a crystal ball and a deck of player cards. “What will the cards tell you?” I asked.
“If I knew, I would not need to draw them. You speak too much. No more words from you until I ask for them,” said the mystic.
After placing five rows of three cards, the Madame looked deep into my eyes, drew one last card, and put it next to the deck.
“I see an undead has visited you and wish to know how to break his hold on you and your business, no?” said the woman.
“That is correct,” I answered.
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. The fee is ten kroner. Pay it and be on your way,” said the mystic.
“What! I was told you are the best, and if I don’t break his hold, it will pass on to my son like it has to me,” I shouted at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me this is about children? I can help with children’s curses. Bad business is for banks, not Madam Meow.
“Be still, Madam will gaze into my sphere and seek guidance. Then we will know where to begin,” said the mystic. As she rubbed her paws over the crystal ball, it began to glow a deep blue.
“Aha, I see your ancestor destroyed the undead’s followers. He craves vengeance, but his body is too weak for a direct attack. He uses his power to cause nightmares on your child and business partners,” the woman explained.
“What shall I do?” I cautiously asked, fearing that my words would upset her.
“You are right to be cautious when you open your mouth. Give me a lock of your hair, and I will create a charm to help you find the undead’s resting place. Once discovered, burn it, and then place this charm on the ashes. It will keep the undead’s spirit from returning,” said Madam Meow.
The woman entered her caravan and, after a moment, returned with a small cloth pouch.
“When home, hold the charm in your right hand. Turn in a circle until the charm becomes warm, then walk straight in that direction. When the charm burns your hand, you will have found the crypt. Burn it,” the woman instructed.
I thanked the woman, paid her fee, and returned home. The following morning, I did as the mystic instructed and was shocked to find the crypt beneath the potting shed.
Dousing the building in oil, I lit a tapper and threw it. “Now burn here and in Hell, foul demon,” I shouted as the structure erupted into flames.
Screams of terror emanated from inside the burning shed. I worried the creature might escape, but the screams faded, and the building collapsed.
After an hour, only smoldering ash remained, and by sunset, the ash had cooled. I put the charm in the building’s center, then placed a heavy stone to conceal it so a curious child might not abscond with it.
“Stay in Hell and bring no harm to this family,” I said. Regularly checking on the charm to ensure it remained undisturbed gave me peace of mind.
I am happy to report that my family and partners are free of nightmares and that my business is better than ever. Should you ever need a mystic, seek out the woman in the wood; she comes highly recommended.
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Folksburywoods 
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