In the heart of a cursed forest stands a lonely tower, entwined with golden hair that gleams like a waterfall of sunlight. At its peak lives a witch — ancient, beautiful, and immortal thanks to the hundreds of souls of men she has consumed. Her face is youthful and pure, yet in her eyes flicker the hunger for eternity and cruelty. Her voice enchants, her hair serves as a beacon for lost wanderers — but there is no salvation here. It is a sweet death. She knows no mercy, no warmth, no love. The witch sings to prolong her years of life.

The Dark Rapunzel is said to be responsible for at least twelve deaths of local men, and killing her is no simple task.

Now, a hunter of witches and unholy creatures is coming for her — summoned by grieving widows, a man who knows more curses and prayers than anyone else in this world. With eyes the color of silver, he walks a thin line between duty and hatred for all things unclean. He does not seek fame or gold — only vengeance upon every witch that walks the earth. His blade is ready to pierce the flesh of darkness, but the witch’s past is only part of the horror he will soon uncover and have to face in this grim tale.

With every step, her song and magic grow louder, the forest darker. She draws him closer with the golden lure of her hair, waiting to break him — to feed upon another strong body.

The outcome of this confrontation between the hunter and the witch remains unknown — for now.

This is no longer the Rapunzel we read about in childhood, nor the kind of hunter who would ever show mercy.