Hope | j.black

you're a curse, child.

Port Angeles, a beautiful small city in Washington state. A solid hour or so drive from Forks, funny enough. The location of the witch that I hope can help me, her name is the Triad Witch. She heavily believes in all balance in the universe and in the supernatural, which will make her a heavy believer that I shouldn't exist.

Arriving at her home, knowing I didn't exactly tell her I was coming. Approaching her as she laid on one of her pool side long chairs, holding a spelled candle. For once I lighting it, all witch powers are no longer in use until I blow it out. She wasn't the woman I was expecting though, I sensed an older woman and laying before me. She was young.

"Alfred, set a meeting up for this afternoon. I sense we have to deal with the upcoming Tribrid sooner then expected." I stood there quietly, laughing to myself. "I'm sorry, do we have a problem-?" She opened her eyes and sat up, looking at me with shock.

"Yeah we do actually." I smiled. "You're my first." Looking down at the candle, watching it light. I looked back to the woman, watching as her young skin turned wrinkly. "You don't look so good." I begun, walking past her and putting the candle down. "You should get out of the sun, you're getting a little prunie."

"Incendia!" She yelled behind me as she jumped to her feet, rolling my eyes as I spun to face her.

"Ya know, if you just let me talk. Before trying to attack, I would have told you that this candle is nullifying our magic, but I still have my werewolf side. My vampire side hasn't activated yet, but I am still more powerful then you are."

"Because you are an affront to nature herself." Narrowing my eyes at her, I slowly stepped towards her.

"I'm not the one, using black magic to stay young. Not very natural of you." I stopped, staring her down.

"My vanity aside, you're cursed, child. The Tribrid, was never meant to exist." I smiled as I raised an eyebrow. "Kill me if you must, but I will not help you. There will be no hiding from your fate." She spat, as I leant towards her, folding my arms.

"Do I look like I am hiding? Why don't you tell me, about a scarred African American man. Surrounded by fire." I demanded, the scent of the chlorine from the pool burning my nostril hairs. She changed her expression, from a bitchy look to a oblivious look.

"I don't know , what you are on about." She replied, letting out a huff of a laugh. I smirked. "What?" She looked at me nervously.

"You're lying, your heart is racing." I took another step towards her. "Surely, you're not dumb enough to put your life on the line like this. Tell me about the man, now." I flashed my werewolf eyes, watching her jump in her skin. She slowly gave in.

"The man you are looking for, he's dead. He died in 1778, his name is Eric Stevens." She explained.

"Why was he in my dream?" I questioned, in a blink of an eye. I watched the woman in front of me burst into a ball of flames, sighing heavily as the smell of burning flesh filled the area. I said to myself. "Crap." Kicking her into the pool as her screams continued, watching her cool down and her body become stiff. Listening to her heart come to a complete stop, I looked up to the sky. "What the actual hell is going on?"

Walking over to the candle as I blew it out, I casted a spell to cement the water that the body was in. I wondered around the house, trying to gather as much information as possible. I stopped as I came across a photo on the wall, observing it closer. There he was, the man from my dream. Eric Stevens, standing there beside the witch that I just cemented into her pool. Holding my breath, I clenched my jaw, taking in what my current situation is.

I was away from my home, the house was dusty, old and rustic. It was a one levelled home, where there was spell books surrounding a table. This was a home of a powerful witch, one that blew up into a ball of flames in front of me. There is a saying, once the powerful fall. The kingdom will follow to revenge their queen, I only wish that they don't believe I am the one to blame.

But that aside, curiosity got the better of me. How did the witch and Eric know one another, why wouldn't she tell me more about him? How do I find out more, when one is dead and the other is a crisp corpse in the cemented pool. This has become one whole new problem in itself, something that is bigger then I am.