The Sisters of the Waning Moon

Deep in the woods on the last nights before the moon goes dark, a chanting can be heard beneath the whispering wind and the drone of crickets. Some say it is merely the incessant call of the katydids rasping away in the night. But I know different. I have heard the twisted voices of a pair of twin witches known as The Sisters of the Waning Moon. Few have actually seen the old hags as they circle the abandoned well, chanting an ancient spell into the echoing abyss. Few would want to recount the memories of an encounter with evil divided. I have seen the Sisters but cannot allow myself to describe them for fear of losing my already shattered mind.