Rain is pouring down windows. the rain had caused fog to loom over the ghostly town, and drag it’s up to the looming castle. The castle had been empty for many years now, ever since the royal family had disappeared overnight. Some said they had been cursed. Others believe they were just cowards. No one, however, knew the truth. But, in that town, you could see a family of five. Always together, they roamed the streets. they’re moods always shifted to darker ones, drawing out such a power it made the citizens bitter and dry up all their emotions. They were cruel and vile, never smiling and constantly grimacing at the suns light. The townspeople always avoided them as much as possible, not wanting to come in contact with the strange family. Their house was worn down and farther away than any others. Yet their clothes always seemed to be of the latest fashion, made with expensive materials that never got dirty. The house was worn down, yes, but what made it stranger is that no one ever saw them entering it. constant shadows appeared against the forsaken house, the windows stayed black with out a rippling effect of the light. The effect this house had sent chills that could nearly froze her heart, but that didn’t stop her from reaching out her warm fingers and place them against the aching structure. It was cold. So cold, it burnt. She snatched her hand back and cradled it against her chest. Even with the rain pouring down, she went to the town square and dipped her hand in the fountain. when she removes her hand a dark figure crawls, ominously as she hesitantly walks down the abandoned alley. Impersonating her every movement, a flicker of a street lamp catches her eyes and her momentum stops her body she turns to see a young man rise from the murky depths of the cobblestone puddles. What she notices first isn’t his short black hair or his shiny silver eyes that seem to instantly lock with her own. No, what she notices first are his wings. Huge, black, feathery wings that twitch slightly when he raises his chin and slowly exhales. The sounds resonates throughout the empty street. Sounds. He's not alone. Behind him, another four figures, all with wings, all moving at the same time. He smiles, with his freckled face smeared with blood. His velvet black wings, still fleecy as his family looks mirrored his own. But when she looked towards him, her eyes skimming his body she noticed his bare chest with a saturated burnt mark of a hand print, but not just any hand print; it was hers. Where had that hand print come from? She didn’t remember. Maybe... her hand on a warm chest... She shook her head lightly. That had never happened. Right?
Story recorded by @storybot, written by @smartass-mee, @acourtofglassandroses-insta, and @aelinskingdom-insta