AT THE WITCHING HOUR In the South Western Swamps, the light grew to its dimmest, inspiring the wildlife a final cry as the Witching Hour descended upon the land, inspiring a haunting transformation. The sea belched black and brackish waters grew a vibrant, neon green-blue, creating an ominous glow over the land. And as the moon became obscured by the clouds, the dead walked again in forms ethereal, and now, rotting.    Congregating in droves, wayward and explorers noted thes