Identities Of Love, Flaws and Lost Time. : TW/PJO/TO

P R O L O G U E - 2

{• P R O L O G U E • P A R T 2 •}

Chapter 2: Till Forever Falls Apart

In the vision:

The three Mikaelson witches gasped and coughed as they bent over to catch their breaths.

"Are you all right?" Davina asked Hope as she winced, gently reaching out to touch her forehead.

Davina and Freya checked for any signs of the Hollow taking control and released a breath of relief when they found nothing other than a couple of rescinding blue veins.

"W-where are we?" Hope asked, observing the dark empty high school hallways where they were estranged.

"I don't know," Freya answered.

"Did you feel the pulse before we ended up wherever we are?" Davina asked

"Yeah, It felt weird." Hope answered at the same time that Freya responded, "A Pulse of Magic."

The skittish witches jumped as they heard an echoed crash, "did you hear that?" Freya asked.

"Yeah," Hope said, turning to the sound, "I think it was that way," running towards the locker room.

Upon arrival, they observed a young boy with brown hair and brown eyes attempt to fight a creepy and realistic cowboy-scarecrow monster either inspired or from the western 1800s movies.

The monster had skin that matched with wood and hollowed bullet-shot eyes; he had Jet black curly winglets for hair hidden under the cowboy hat whose lips were sewn shut.

"What is the" Hope began but paused as she comprehended what was happening in front of her.

Her spontaneous reaction was to help the boy in trouble if only her magic didn't refuse to surface.

"I can't use my magic," Hope panicked, " Wait, why can't I use my magic?" Hope asked.

"Because I think this is someone's memory," Freya answered in dismay.

"Damnit!" The boy muttered as he groaned out at his humanity before yelling, "Scott! I'm still Human," he shouted, moving backwards stealthily, hoping his brother could hear him despite whatever scenario he faced.

"Alex! Jade!" he yelled, a prominent vein on his neck popping out.

At this point, he hoped his pack could hear him.

"Guys! I'm human!" he yelled as much as his voice could carry, croaking a little towards the end. "How could I fight this guy?"

"Oh god, not again," he mumbled in disbelief as he saw the creature reach into his belt to pull out a gun.

The boy's face changed to one of agony for a split second before his eyes sparked, and a flash of a different colour streamed through his eyes as he remembered. He cleared his throat, ready to try again, "You better get here quick, Mikaelson" murmured, audible to the witches who exchanged glances at their surname.

"Look," he turned to the creature, raising his hand as if it were going to be able to protect him, "I don't know if you can understand me or remember me but..." his voice faltered as the fiend turned its body to the right, tilting its head to the left.

The boy took that as a sign to continue while the witches' confusion and disbelief were visible in theirs. Who was this guy? Why were they here? The witches were scared for the boy they'd never met at the ridiculousness they were witnessing.