In a time lost in a mire of madness, Krazy Hilda was born. No one could tell you when she began, but many could tell you of whom she has ended with gnarled claws and a wicked maw. She weaves through dreams of the young and grown alike on her broom of silver birch, to sweep away any trace left behind. Only her cackle lingers, a twisted siren’s song calling all who hear it into her inescapable grip.
Five sisters, there was said to be, all different but each wicked. Each grew uglier with every evil deed they committed, but Hilda topped them all. Her wart is the physical manifestation of her evil ways, and it is gruesome indeed. Her skin, however, became green after an unfortunate brewing mishap (surprisingly enough). The five sisters gave advice and predictions to those who dared venture near enough to hear them (One of the bravest, a brute Scot, fared none too well, as the sisters deigned always to influence their prophecies so as to drive the receiver mad.) The terrible quintet are said to hail from the merciless plains of Siberia, born of fowl and serpent. There they lured children to boil and bake, blanch and brew in their chicken limbed hut, wind stripped and well guarded by fearsome beast and creaking gate. Hilda was the most wicked and crazy of the five, and also the most adventurous, so flew abroad to delight, bewitch, and ignite fright in the hearts of all who hear her witch’s cackle.
The Haunted Attractions came after stints in Spain during the inquisition, the Salem Witch trials (what a scream!) and most recently, the underside of a tiny farmhouse (Her sisters weren’t so fortunate in surviving.) Krazy Hilda started the Attractions because of her understanding of the delight in fear, and the allure of the unknown, and to remind each and every one of her pretties not to cross the head witch.