Outrage

PROLOGUE

In the year 1883, in a secluded and run down little town, is a remote cabin scarcely furnished and in serious need of a good cleaning. A powerful witch is concluding preparations for a most important and dire ritual. She is bleeding, weak and dying from being attacked by her own coven. But she must finish the ritual. She must send her daughter, her precious little butterfly, to the 21st century, where she will be safe.

Tron Cobbs is the only friend of the witch's lover and the only creature she can trust, both for this ritual and for the protection of her precious baby. He is a powerful vampire, brutal in the face of danger and merciless in war and with his help, Azeela will finish this ritual even if she dies doing it.

She ignites a few candles and incense, softly uttering in an unfamiliar language, she creates a protective boundary encompassing everyone present in the room. Tron assists her in elevating the pentacle as the chants intensifies to a deafening octave.
He finds himself uttering incantations he never thought himself capable of, in unfamiliar voices and languages.

Just as the circle is successfully raised, the witch steps out of it to carry her child, a tiny little girl wrapped very carefully in warm blankets. She places her in Tron's arms and guides them to the center of the pentacle. Lovingly, Azeela caressed her daughter's rosy cheeks. She tenderly kisses her forehead, tears of sorrow, of love and pain fall freely as she cried. A teardrop falls into the little girl's hair causing a purple glow to appear on her messy head of hair. Treading her hands softly through the new strand of purple in the girl's hair, the witch whispers something in soft tones then takes a step back, ready now and determined to finish what she had started. She takes Tron's hand- the hand not busied with holding her dear child against him- and together they chanted until the air crackled with energy and still, they chanted, chanted until the candles flickered and the incense smoke swirled. Chanted until a huge swirl of energy appeared before them to suck everything in its path away. It is at this point that the witch snatches her hand away and still chanting at the top of her lungs screamed, "Go!"

It is also at this time that the witch collapsed to the floor panting and looking to ensure Tron had heeded her words. As she lost consciousness, she saw her daughter being eaten up by that strong swirl of energy, she saw the only person she could trust, hesitate and in her mind she pleaded, "please no, let me see him go too", before she sank into the darkness.

As Azeela passed out, she didn't hear the shrill wail that filled the air, a shrill that almost stopped Tron following the baby witch into the swirl of energy transporting them away from this era, a shrill that wailed in tortured voices "This child shall bring forth the end of this world as we know it".

"I am royally fucked" Tron muttered as he let the twirl take him too.
***

Just as a loud clash is heard from the cabin, an angry mob of humans armed with clubs and a coven of enraged witches barge in seething and ready to finish off the witch and take the abomination of a creature she called a daughter. But there was nothing left to be seen in the cabin. The baby was nowhere to be seen and neither was Azeela but it was obvious to the witches that they had been here and that a powerful ritual had also been done. They all stood there with nowhere to vent all that pent up energy for battle and stared in horror at the destruction Azeela left in her wake. In the air was a faint scent of jasmine and crushed butterfly wings. It was a powerful magic indeed!

"What has Azeela done?" "Where could she have gone?" "What happened here?" were only a few of the questions the witches mind-linked to one another.