burning at the stake | o.r.

prologue

Olivia Rodrigo slept peacefully in her bedroom—the walls were pale and faded pink, posters of bands that no one had ever heard of were plastered all over. Her neatly pressed cheer uniform laid untouched on a chair in the corner of the room, just waiting for Olivia to slip into it for the following morning, now that she had finally made the cheer team.

Olivia was abruptly and quite rudely, woken by the sound of her bedroom window opening, proving it was no match for the strong winds that took force outside. In two exaggerated blinks, she had fully snapped back into reality. With a glance toward the window, she was able to determine by the darkness of that sky, that she had woken up during the late hours of the night. Annoyed, Olivia climbed out of bed to re-latch the window, her arms wrapped around herself at the cold wind that chilled the exposed parts of her body.

She made her way to the window, shivering as she reached for the window's doors, planning to quickly close them and get back to the warmth of her bedsheets. Her body stretched as she struggled to have her hand meet the swinging window's doors. The wind grew furiously as she tippy-toed, her entire front half practically hanging out of her bedroom window, one-story distance from the lawn that her mother takes so much pride in keeping green.

When she finally grabbed hold of both doors, she refrained from slamming them closed and supergluing them shut. Mindful of her sleeping parents, she gently forced the doors against the wind and latched them closed as tightly as she could.

She sighed in relief as she looked proudly at her successful work before her attention was caught by the light of the moon in the sky. It was a full moon that night, and Olivia was unable to identify the feeling it gave her, especially because it was glowing brighter now than she had ever seen it.

The wind howled outside the thin glass of her window, rattling the latch as her eyes remained fixated on the moon, entirely mesmerized by its glow. It was when the latch broke loose for the second time that night, that her attention had been seized from the moon.

"Shit." She hissed, already beginning to stretch out and reach for the doors when a hand on her shoulder prompted a scream from the unsuspecting girl.

"Shhhhhhh, it's just me Liv." Olivia's back leaned against the windowsill, breathing heavily as she met the eyes of the perpetrator, dressed in Levi's, worn down Converse, and a fully zipped black leather jacket.

"Jesus Christ, Josh, how the hell did you get in here?" Olivia asked, half-petrified and half-relieved, before resuming her chore of closing the window once again.

"I- Wait let me." Josh laughed as he effortlessly closed them within the time frame of 5 seconds.

Olivia huffed, annoyed at the fact that it wasn't as easy for her. "I can do it myself, you know." She claimed, arms crossed in front of her tank top-clad chest.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Josh snarked as he plopped himself down on the chair where Olivia's cheer uniform laid.

"My bad." He carelessly threw the top and matching skirt on her bed and sat back down on the chair with a wince.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, concerned as she took a seat at the foot of her bed.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I came here to talk to you about." Josh said hesitantly.

"Ok..." Olivia waited.

"I got hurt tonight. Bad." He zips open his leather jacket to reveal a large red stain on the side of his white shirt. Olivia's eyes widened as she leapt from the bed to in front of Josh, stunned by his sustained injuries.

"Oh my God, i-is that blood? Who did this? Are you-"

"Yes, it's blood, and who did it isn't important. I just really need you right now." Josh always said he wanted to be an actor, but Olivia knew he wasn't a very good one. She could sense there was something he was hiding from her. She also knew there was a catch coming up...there was always a catch with him, something that he manipulated her into doing simply because she loved him. And a lot of times, she was okay with it. She was okay with exchanging her worth for a few goodnight kisses. Unfortunately, this was one of those times where she chose to love instead of admitting it was time to lose.

"What do you need? Do you need some bandages, I think I have gauze, do you-"

"No, that's the thing, I need-" Josh's words were left behind as the girl rushed to her bathroom door. She shuffled through her mirror cabinet, and searched for a first aid kit. Her actions were halted when Josh slams the cabinet door closed, startling Olivia as she gasped.

"Liv. You're not listening to me. I don't need bandages or gauze, or whatever the fuck you're looking for. A first aid kit can't get me what I need." Josh said harshly.

"Why can't you just tell me what you need?" Olivia grew frustrated, if she was going to help she needed to know how.

"Because it's- it's not normal, it's just that I'm not like other... people." Josh scratched at his head.

"Bullshit. Tell me what you need." Olivia placed her hands on her hips.

He mumbled a word, averting his eyes from Olivia's.

"What?"

He mumbled the same thing, not any louder than the previous time.

"Josh, fucking tell me this isn't funny." Olivia was ready to fight, and a part of her probably would've wanted to act on that urge if the boy had not already been injured.

"Blood, okay?! I need blood!" Josh finally let out, Olvia's face contorted into confusion.

"Wha-"

"Look. I'm really sorry about this, but I can't die." Josh moved closer to Olivia, uncertain of the way her boyfriend was acting, she stumbled back until her back met the wall. Her body began to quiver at the look on his face... almost like he was starving. And his eyes... she could have sworn they were glowing red, a huge contrast compared to the brown-eyed boy she knew.

"Josh, you're scaring me, what are you say-" Olivia's wavering sentence was cut off by her own gasp, the sting of something sharp sinking into her neck. She went into overdrive as she placed her hands on Josh's shoulders, attempting her hardest to fight against him. It was no use as she kicked and pushed, he wasn't budging and she was unable to find any voice in her to scream. Quickly, she began to grow weaker and could feel the life being drained out of her through the passage of her neck. Her eyes grew heavier as her fighting efforts slowed to a stop.

And just like that, you've got yourself an origin story.