nonexistent.

- 1

a/n: as far as wiccan and speed go, we're gonna be following along the paths of the comics. the two lost souls.

TW FOR THIS CHAPTER.

BIO

Katherine "Kate" Elizabeth Bishop. Daughter of the notorious business man Derek Bishop and Eleanor Bishop. Sister to Susan Bishop.Both of her parents were very distant, which shaped her to only rely on herself from a young age. Kate lived the luxury lifestyle due to her parent's money, though she didn't let that rot her brain with a spoilt attitude. She was stubborn but down to Earth, and regularly volunteered at soup kitchens and other charitable organisations in hopes of ending her purple bloodline. Kate never felt embarrassed by her families ranks, but wanted to be something better than a moneybag that was gonna marry another unpitying moneybag.

PRESENT.

"I just don't get it." she sighed.

"Trust me Katie, there isn't gonna be an end to this war without red. Something big is coming. And you must stay safe. Go home. Go be with your family and send them my regards. For heavens sake, it is the coldest night of this winter."

"I hate listening to you." she sighed, turning around and picking back up her stuff, "Stay safe out there, alright?" she playfully winked, before giving her a small hug and waving goodbye.

It was a cold harsh winter, and with the war still raging on, you could only imagine the shortage of supplies. Though Kate's family wasn't hit as hard as others, the ideal of it was still frightening.

Her footsteps clacked quietly, as the moonshined peacefully down. Unaware of her surroundings. Innocence in the air.

And it happened like that.

The rustling in the bushes, turned to hard footsteps on the gravel Coming closer as she looked back at the sketchy man approaching.

Alarmed by the figure, Kate ran and wavered her arms. Screaming for help in the pouring rain.

Neck snapped backwards, pulled into a headlock.

Roughly thrown down.

The mascara running down her face, as tears bled her eyes and she helplessly screamed.

LATER.

Tramautized, violated, and isolated.

Kate sat curled up in ball. Just barely under the covers, her tote bag laying creased on top of the purple silk duvet.

Quiet cries just barely echoed the high ceilings of her families Manhatten mansion, a small lamplight just barely burning on to keep her company.

For the next few days, Kate barely left her room. And when she did, it wasn't that she wanted to. It was that she had to. She frequently locked her door, secluding herself from any interaction with anyone. Her meals were brought to her, but were never eaten. Just stayed on the tray outside of her room.

She had fallen into a deep, dark hole. Something she didn't deserve to be in. But something that made her feel so sick she had lost hope of getting out of.