†The Langdon Triplets†

524 34 2
                                    


The older woman sat you down opposite her and began to explain, Your mother was a woman named Vivian Harmon, Your father was Tate Langdon. Vivian died when giving birth to you and your two brothers, one of your brother's, Michael, survived and so did you. But your other brother wasn't so lucky.

Everyone in the house you currently where in was dead, but also they where trapped there. Constance explained that she took you and Micheal in when you where born, she took care of you both. You and Micheal being twins, you both caused Chaos around Constance's house, one day when you where 5 Constance had enough and put you in the orphanage, where a family from Salem adopted you and took you back there.

The boy you saw earlier was Micheal your biological brother. But something was very wrong with him, and you.

Constance had no idea what was wrong, Langdon was a very morbid boy but you where the same, deep down. Constance got up from her chair and led you to the young man “Micheal, there's someone I'd like you too meet.” Micheal turned around and locked eyes with you “This Y/n, your twin sister.” Michael got up and hugged you. It was a warm hug, the warmest you'd ever had.

“How long has it been?....Since I died?” Constance asked when you had died, you gave her the honest answer “2014.” Constance looked at you sadly “it's 2020 now.” a whole 6 years. That was hard to swallow “And Micheal was just about to leave with some friends, would you like to go with him?” you nodded and Micheal smiled showing you to the dinning room.

3 people sat there, 2 women and 1 man “Who is this my lord?” The man got up, he wore a black cloak and stood tall “This is My twin sister, Y/n Langdon.” It was weird hearing your real last name, but it made you happier knowing he was your brother. The taller man grabbed your hand and kissed it “I am the black Pope my dear.”

Now that made you uncomfortable, a black Pope? “Im Miriam Mead, I'll be taking care of you both.” the 5 of you left the house after a few nights of staying. Turns out, you and your brother where the children of satan. Which was awful news for you.

Whilst at the house you got to meet your mother Vivian, she believed you to be an angel, Ben was playing with Micheal whilst you talked to a woman who visited the house often, her name being Billie Dean-Howard. She was very nice, and very pretty.

But now at your new home which was smaller and more cozy, you couldn't help but feel like you where missing someone, a woman, she came to you in your dreams, there would be a tree a big beautiful tree and the woman stood under it back facing you. But once you could reach her she disappeared and you woke up. It was a frustrating situation. The woman had blond hair and always wore black clothing. It was no one you could remember.

Every day your memories grew more and more foggy, one day you came downstairs and Miriam gave you a smile as she was making breakfast, “Your father has blessed us once again, Your brother is going into the Hawthorne School, and he's planning to beat the witches.” Witches that made your head ring with alarm bells. “We shall support him.” you nodded at her and sat down “Where is he?”

She placed the waffles down Infront of you “He's already left my dear, but not to worry because we'll be helping from the outside.” You hummed in agreement as She countinues to thank your father for the food given “Hail satan my girl.” you smiled at her and raised your glass “Hail satan.”

†A few months later†

“Y/n! Where going to the store now!” You ran downstairs with your usual black and red dress on, Both you and Miriam went to the store once every week to get supplies.

Once you arrived it was dark out, but Miriam still wanted her goats meat. You wondered around the store bouncing around and playing with a butterfly knife you had gotten from Micheal. You looked down one aisle and saw a blond girl with a black cloak on. She was following you and Miriam. “Y/n! Let's go!” You rushed over to her and left the store. The blond followed.

UnnoticedWhere stories live. Discover now