A/N: I'm late, I'm late, I do have to apologize for that but Valentine's day kept me a little busy and I was unable to finish writing the first chapter! Here it is though! No more to say, enjoy it! By the way, I'll be fixing my masterlist pretty soon, it is a mess but I promise I'll manage to do it somehow!
Next Sunday will be when the second part comes out so I have an entire week to plan and rewrite since I want to make a few changes on the story!
Little prologue!
Warnings: Mentions of blood, magic, murdering and some babies being abandoned...Sorry :)
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The job wasnât particularly difficult, but it had its challenges. Cleaning and organizing an entire building â three floors, all by yourself â was no small task. But despite the magnitude of the job, you couldnât help but feel a sense of excitement. After all, just the fact that you had work again was enough to bring you joy.
Honestly, they could have asked you to do the most mundane, exhausting task, and you still would have been grateful. As an adult, not worrying about money was a luxury you didnât take lightly. And although it meant putting in hard work to leave the offices and bathrooms spotless, the effort seemed worth it.
âBe sure to pay extra attention to the bathrooms, the entrance, and the areas where clients might pass through during meetings,â James, the man who had interviewed you the day before, had said. âYou can still clean the offices, of course, but those common areas are more important.â
âGot it!â you replied with a smile.
âWe understand that it might be tough to clean everything in one day, so donât rush. If you need help with anything, donât hesitate to reach out to me or someone else if Iâm unavailable,â he added reassuringly.
That relieved the anxiety you had about finishing everything. âUnderstood!â
âAlso, if you come across a room with a closed door, it either means someoneâs working inside or the person prefers privacy. Just avoid disturbing them.â
âOf course,â you agreed, still smiling.
âAny questions?â he asked.
âWell, I was just wondering where I can find the cleaning supplies. The document I received mentioned theyâd be provided, but I didnât bring any of my own.â
âOh, no problem.â James gestured down the hall. âThat small brown door next to the elevator leads to the changing room. Your uniform and cleaning supplies are there, so you can leave your personal things in the locker and get what you need.â
âGreat, thank you!â you smiled again, adjusting the strap of your backpack.
âOf course! And if you want to take a break, thereâs coffee in the meeting room on the first floor. Help yourself whenever you need,â James added as he made his way to the elevator.
âThanks!â you called after him.
The building was eerily quiet as you walked to the changing room. Maybe most of the staff hadnât arrived yet, or maybe the rooms were soundproof, but the only sound was the ticking of a clock at the end of the hall and the echo of your own footsteps.
Once you changed into your uniform, you felt a surge of motivation. You were determined to give your best to the people who had helped pull you out of a tough spot. With your cleaning cart in tow, you decided to start with the second floor, then move to the first, saving the third floor for last since it had no common spaces.
The music in your headphones made the work feel almost effortless, like a lazy Sunday spent cleaning at home. The rhythm of your favorite tunes turned each task into a kind of dance.
But when you reached the third floor, things started to feel⊠off.
Maybe it was the fading light outside, or the sterile, windowless hallway, but an unsettling chill crept over you. The walls were white, clinical even, making the space feel more like a science lab than an office. There were only a few offices, and at the far end, a door stood slightly ajar, casting a beam of light into the hallway.
The silence here felt unnervingly thick, and the lack of any decoration made the space feel empty, almost abandoned. A shiver ran down your spine.
For reasons you couldnât explain, you felt compelled to remove one of your earphones. Something about the atmosphere made you uneasy.
You tried to brush it off. Itâs just another hallway, just like the one upstairs, you told yourself. But something still felt wrong.
With your senses on high alert, you moved down the hall slowly, as though you were trying not to disturb anything. All the doors were closed, a relief after the chaos of cleaning fourteen offices and a meeting room on the floors above.
At the end of the hall, you reached the door that was slightly open, the one that seemed to invite you in. Just as you reached for the handle, you saw a large sign on the door: DO NOT ENTER. SCIENTISTS ONLY.
That gave you pause.
The rule was simple: donât clean rooms with closed doors. But this door wasnât entirely closed, just slightly ajar. Technically, it wasnât off-limits, right?
A more cautious person might have asked a colleague for guidance, but you made the decision to enter anyway.
âHello?â Your voice came out more hesitant than you expected. But there was no turning back now. You had to clean this roomâno one had told you not to.
Inside, the sight before you was utterly unexpected:
Thirteen coffins.
You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. The sight was so surreal that for a moment, you thought your mind was playing tricks. The coffins were neatly arranged in a circle, their dark wood gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Though they were all sealed, an unsettling sense of dread crept over you.
Was this some sort of prank? But there were no cameras, no signs of it being a joke. This was real.
The rest of the room was bare, except for the coffins, a table cluttered with papers, and a trash bin full of crumpled sheets and empty glass tubes. Everything seemed disorganized, as though the people who worked here had left in a rush.
You forced yourself to take a deep breath and try to remain calm. Slowly, you began clearing the papers from the table, though your mind raced with questions. What was this place? What was going on here?
As you tidied up, you noticed a thick, old book hidden under a pile of papers. The cover was worn and faded, and as you flipped it open, the pages revealed a strange, handwritten tale.
Reading wouldn't do any harm right? Maybe this gave you a clue of what was going on here.
Once upon a time, there was a village thrown into chaos by the discovery of witches. The people's beliefs were shaken by the sudden appearance of magic, and their safety seemed threatened when mysterious rituals began to take place in the darkness of night. As expected, the hunt to rid the village of this new danger began.
The stakes were set ablaze, and the nights grew less dark, now illuminated by the fires of extermination.
Innocent souls were sometimes sent to Hell, and sometimes, real witches were sacrificed. Trust among people evaporated. No one knew when it would all end. No one was safe. Your daughter, mother, or wife could be the next one burning at the stake.
Once upon a time, there was a witch who had foreseen the night when she might be huntedâthe fateful night when a man would drag her from her small cabin.
Once upon a time, there was a witch who managed to escape. She would remember that night until her last breathâthe haunting screams of women echoing through the streets, how men dragged them from the safety of their homes by their hair and feet as though they were mere animals, as though they were not even human.
She would never forget the cries of the little girls, desperately begging for mercy, trying to convince the crowd that they didnât even know what magic was, until their final breath. The witch could still hear their anguished cries, as they were ripped from their mothers' arms, having been robbed of the only safety they had ever known in this cruel world.
She could still vividly recall gathering the few belongings she could carry before escaping through the back door. The foul stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils as soon as she stepped outside. The images of smoke, torches, blood, and fire haunted her mind every time she tried to sleep.
That night, she ran breathlessly into the forest, pushing herself to go as fast as she could, not caring how the branches scraped at her skin. She ran deep into the woods, searching for a place where no human would dare follow, a place where they would never think to look.
In the solitude between the trees and shadows, she built her home. The beginning was tough, but magic made it easier, and surviving was all that mattered.
Outside the forest, the village had fallen into such a state of ruin after the merciless hunt that its inhabitants had been forced to take drastic measures. Some didnât want to have another child or simply couldnât afford to feed another mouth. Others focused on rebuilding the village, on forgetting the murders committed in plain view, while some swore never to raise a child in such a cruel place.
Some mothers had died giving birth, others burned at the stake under the accusation of practicing black magic. Some fathers didnât feel strong enough to raise another child after losing their beloved wives, and others were too afraid, thinking their newborn might also be a product of witchcraft. In the end, all of these unwanted children were abandoned, one by one, deep in the forest. Their cries reached the witchâs ears, but they were close enough for their families to hear too, haunting them as they walked away, embedding that sound in their memories forever.
The number thirteen is often seen as an omen of bad luck, but for the witchâthe isolated woman who had escaped the huntâit was a blessing. Not because of her magic, but because thirteen was the number of children she saved. Thirteen children who became her new, unconventional family.
It was sheer coincidence each time she found an abandoned baby in the woods. Guided by their cries, the witch would track down every one of them, expanding her home until it was large enough for all fourteen of them to live in.
Despite the strange circumstances of their formation, the children grew up with the love theyâd been denied. The witch, taking on the role of mother, gave them the warmth and affection they would never have known if not for her. And the children, once orphans, thrived in the love of the woman who saved them.
But everything has an end. What had once been a peaceful, loving home eventually fell into the chaos that had destroyed the village long ago. The childrenânow young menâgrew curious, as teenagers often do. The witch, though, wasnât accustomed to such behavior. They wondered why they lived in the woods and why they couldnât leave, but the witch always deflected their questions, keeping their impatience at bay.
Unfortunately, this could only go on for so long. As they entered their twenties, the fear of breaking the rules began to fade, and one afternoon, they stole the witchâs grimoire and cast a spell to put her into a deep sleep. During those hours, they sneaked out of the house and ventured into the village nearby.
That night would be the best night of their lives.
They explored the entire town, learning its history, the story of the witches who had once been hunted and burned. They began to understand why their mother had chosen to live in the woods, though they couldnât quite grasp why they werenât allowed to leave the forest, especially since they werenât like her. The night took a turn for the adventurous when they discovered bars, filled with alcohol and girls. That night, all thirteen brothers experienced things that had been hidden from them for so long.
What was supposed to be a one-time thing soon became a routine. They all felt guilty for lying to the woman who had raised them, but the girls they met in the village had stolen their hearts. Love, passion, and lust overpowered their fear of the gentle witch who had cared for them all these years.
But mistakes are meant to be made, and one night, one of the brothers left the grimoire open on the table after theyâd returned from their latest adventure. That night, after indulging in too much fun, they fell into a deep sleep, unaware that the witch had woken up before them.
It took a while for her to discover what they had done. At first, she couldnât believe that the children she had saved from death would betray her so easily. Rage consumed her, and all she could see was red. How could they do this to her? How could they choose girls over the one person who had raised them, who had saved them from certain death? Blinded by fury, she opened her grimoire and began chanting dark rituals, curses that would destroy their loved ones and punish the girls who had stolen her children. But more than that, she sought to teach them a lessonâone that would seal their fate and turn them into living nightmares.
Though she knew she would regret it, deep down, she still loved them. But they needed to learn that betraying the one who saved them would never go unpunished.
Consumed by rage, the witch used her magic to hypnotize the girls and bring them to her home. She sat them down next to her sleeping sons, who had yet to wake. Once everyone was inside, she stepped outside, chanting a spell that would change the lives of her children forever.
âYou, who betrayed the woman who loved you most, will now betray the ones who led you to the worst. Fate will twist, your lives will never end, and youâll relive the nightmare of killing your love over and over again. Donât take comfort in controlling it, the beast inside you will never be tamed, no matter how much you want it. The monster within will emerge the moment you encounter a woman who resembles the ones whose memories haunt you.â
Once upon a time, there were thirteen children who should have diedâbut never did.
Once upon a time, there were thirteen teenagers whose curiosity would lead them to their doom.
Once upon a time, there were thirteen men whose lives turned into eternal nightmares.
Once upon a time, there were thirteen monsters who would terrorize towns, cities, and entire nations.
Once upon a time, there were The Originals.
Once upon a time, there was Death.