A gothic-looking devil girl with a knowledge of black magic may not be something unusual in fiction, but it's a type of character that never goes out of style, like blue jeans or chicken eggs. This is a tragedy about a transgender girl with an exorb...
How does the horizon look like after all the actions committed by our protagonist? I know.
Detective Allard was not doomed forever in that monstrous, hairy form, because she woke up in the early morning in her original skin, covered in junk food wrappers and a bunch of other products in a gas station in the middle of the road. When she opened her eyes, it took her a long time to locate where she was and why she was without clothes among so much junk. The doubts gradually dissipated, because, after covering herself with a towel from a counter, she began to get a good look at the place, and observed all the wreckage her wolf form had caused. Then she remembered the deal she made, and felt a strange pain in his stomach, as if she had spent the whole night putting strange things in her mouth. Unfortunately, the feeling of disgust was only going to get worse, because she immediately noticed traces of blood across the floor originating from the cash register.
She approached it slowly, with as much fear as a person could have in that situation, and finally saw it. The employee who worked the night hours was spread all over the floor and wall, or at least what was left of him, because, as you could guess, he couldn't survive the attack of the hungry beast.
Allard recoiled back in dread. She could not assimilate the fact that her life was now going to change radically to a fugitive from the law that she respected so much. The future was a complete mystery to her condition, and the only help she could count on was her partner.
Leonard Quickley, who had made it safely to the police station, was able to give all the necessary information to the captain. Everything to do with magic was replaced by complex ruses of the local mob; it sunk in that Charlie, the missing boy, had been found dead under a bridge next to his parents; the wizard Steven G. Ledger had been left as a phony street magician who died of dehydration after escaping from the truck transporting him to the maximum security prison; and Greyson was left as a crazed war hero who ended up committing suicide.
He burned the Gaspel file in his fireplace. His gaze could not have been more vacant. Clearly what he was doing was the best thing for future questioning and, it turned out to be the right thing to do at the end of the day, but he couldn't help but feel bad, not out of helplessness, but because his partner might never come back.
The purpose of his journey was to overcome his inferiority complex, and he succeeded. He made his own decisions and, at the end of the day, made everyone believe the story he put up as a plot patch. In theory, he is now no one's slave. All that's left is to go on with his life hoping for the best.
Danny and Steven are still ashes in the wind.
Everything went their way in some form or another, including Charlotte. She spent all morning digging a five-foot hole in the garden. Clement's body, fortunately, did not escape from its box.
Charlotte's arms grew tired and she considered the depth to be enough, so she pushed the tea box into it. It was funny to think that he would be conscious the whole time he was going to be in that horrible position underground, literally his own personal hell. As she refilled it, she could feel all her troubles disappear to return to a normal life on her own terms. Her mind was at last at ease, and she could take advantage of the peace to think...
Maybe it was time to move on to greener pastures, maybe to another country. America sounds interesting, that's where Steven lived... Steven... How did it all start? If only he hadn't shown up at that hospital on her birthday... Oh, that's right! There was something Charlotte had completely forgotten. As soon as she remembered, she ran to Steven's room and searched through all the drawers for something that belonged to her. Finally, she found it inside the closet hidden among piles of clothes: Her birthday present, of course. It came in a festive bag, and the tag read:
"From Mom and Dad, for our morning star, our beloved ray of light. We trust you'll get well soon."
Those simple words were all Charlie's dusty heart needed to break into tears. Maybe it's chance, or maybe a divine revelation, but as soon as the first tear splashed on the ground, in sync it began to rain outside the house, something she hadn't seen happen in a long time.
In the bag was a small notebook with a pencil, and considering her fascination with learning and reading at such times, it was the perfect gift. Taking the notebook in her hands, she hugged it with teary eyes and intended to use it a lot in the future. But why wait? Perhaps it would be appropriate to release it at that time.
October 27, 1966.
I completed my goal. I may have left a few nails unnailed, like those troglodytes at the orphanage that hung me upside down, but it's nothing that can't be solved with a few more animal corpses. I plan to start using curses, as I could use some discretion from time to time.
Steven left the cauldron in the library full of all those materials. If the instructions don't lie, with the sugar I managed to salvage from the mob I can execute the spell with no problem. Should I bring back his late sister? I think, after all I did, I owe the wizard a favor.
...
The story will continue, because when the sun sets, the moon is always present.
The End.
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