Prelude

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"My kind has been around since the early existence of man, we are the beasts their children are afraid of. But loving the monsters always end badly for the humans, its a rule"


 But loving the monsters always end badly for the humans, its a rule"

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•England, Year 813 AD•




"Please, stop! Where are you taking us?!" The ear piercing scream of a thirteen year old girl fills the ears of every living creatures within fifteen metres.


Her face is a deathly pale colour, fear and worry clear on the dirty complexion. It is near perfection. The girl's golden tangles are full of mud clumps with pieces of twig here and there. Her beauty is captivating, which may be the reason villagers have turn against her. Tears travel in a continuous stream down her warm rosy cheeks. She screams for her saviour, anyone that could possibly give her a spark of hope. She yearns to be back in her home, being in the warm comfort of her handmade blanket. Large hands firmly grip her forearm, causing it to throb in pain.


What the little girl wishes for the most is for roles to be in her favour, a complete switch. She would be the one to cause pain in these wretched villagers. Wishing that with one look from her circular ocean eyes, the very blood running through their veins would turn to burning acid. The pain would be unbearable, but it would send joy to her to see them begging for their very life.


"Jane!" A thirteen year old boy, with oddly similar features, calls out to her, "Unhand her this instant!"


But he too is not sure for their safety, or even if they would make it out of the situation alive. Their resemblance is uncanny, fraternal twins. The boy is being hauled along with his sister, taking twice the many people to take him along due to his constant struggle. The flames of the torches contrast against the black night, illuminating the path to their death. It almost seems ritualistic, as if dragging innocent suspects to a massive fire and burning them to their death is a daily happening.


"Alec, Jane..." Her voice could soothe a group of a hundred angry rioters, like running fingertips over a cold silk fabric. But at this very moment, it is no help. "...Everything is going to be alright."


She is the oldest out of the three children the villagers claim treason to. She is also the calmest, conjuring an escape plan in the very depths of her mind. The possibilities are endless, but all must be thought through cautiously. One possibility would be letting her legs give in, causing her entire body to fall. For a split second, the man holding onto her would let his guard down; giving pity to the poor tired female. That would be enough for her to sweep him off his feet and grab onto the axe which is securely put on his waist. But the simple fact she is drain of all energy is enough for that plan to utterly fail. They all are exhaust beyond belief, they have fought and struggled against them for far too long.

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