The Witch's Biscuit Banquet: A Sinister Supper

In the heart of the ancient forest, there lay an old, abandoned cottage. It was said to be the home of the witch of the woods, a figure whispered about in hushed tones by the villagers. Her name was Lila, and her reputation preceded her like a dark cloud. It was rumored that she had the power to conjure spirits, control the elements, and satisfy her insatiable hunger for the flesh of the living.

One crisp autumn evening, a group of young villagers decided to test the bounds of their courage. They had heard the tales of Lila's cottage and were determined to uncover the truth behind the witch's legend. The night was as silent as the grave, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional howl of a distant wolf.

As they approached the cottage, the villagers felt a chill seep into their bones. The door creaked open of its own accord, and they were greeted by the sight of a flickering candle. The room within was dimly lit, and the air was thick with the scent of decay and spices. A large, ornate table stood in the center, covered in a tablecloth that shimmered with an eerie glow.

Lila appeared before them, her face a mask of ancient cruelty. "Welcome, my dear guests," she said in a voice that seemed to come from all around them. "Tonight, you will feast upon the finest biscuits in the land, and your appetites will be satisfied to the fullest."

The villagers exchanged nervous glances but were intrigued by the prospect of such a lavish banquet. They took their seats, and Lila served them a platter of biscuits that were as golden as the sun and as sweet as honey. The biscuits were irresistible, and they devoured them with a voracious hunger that seemed to grow with each bite.

As the night wore on, the biscuits seemed to multiply before their eyes, and the table was soon overflowing with a mountain of the treats. The villagers felt a strange warmth in their stomachs, a warmth that felt almost alive. They laughed and talked, enjoying the feast as if they had never eaten before.

Lila watched them with a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Your gluttony will be your undoing," she whispered to herself.

As the night drew to a close, the villagers felt a strange urge to eat more. They could not resist the biscuits, and their hands reached out for more, even as they knew they should stop. The biscuits were like a drug, and they were powerless to resist.

Suddenly, the room seemed to grow colder, and the candles flickered and died. The villagers looked around in shock to see that Lila had vanished. The table was now empty, and the biscuits were gone. They felt a cold sweat break out on their brows, and their stomachs began to twist in pain.

One by one, the villagers dropped to their knees, writhing in agony. They had overindulged, and their bodies were rejecting the biscuits. The pain was excruciating, and they called out to Lila, but she was nowhere to be seen.

The villagers died that night, their bodies twisted in grotesque shapes, and their faces contorted in agony. Their spirits remained, trapped in the cottage, forever bound to the biscuits that had brought them to their doom.

The cottage became known as the place of the biscuit banquet, and the villagers avoided it at all costs. But those who dared to pass by the cottage often heard the sound of giggling, the sound of biscuits being devoured, and the sound of spirits laughing at the folly of human gluttony.

The witch of the woods had left her mark on the world, and her legend would live on forever, a reminder that the line between hunger and gluttony is a thin one, and that the cost of indulgence can be a terrible price to pay.