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Creme de la Creme. The name of the strip club Cascada ended up at. She had a feeling at least one of her first witches would reside within the club, desperate to leave but unable to. She felt the energy radiating from the club. It was dark, full of malice, and strong.
Once Cascada entered the club, the smell of booze and smoke stung the tip of her nose. The smell was putrid and Cascada wasn't quite used to the obscure smells. Cascada made her way into the club and was quickly drawn to a young girl sitting in the corner. She had a beautiful blonde wig set atop her head, and there was a man right next to her counting the money she seemed to had just made. Cascada instantly knew she was a witch. The energy seeping through her skin was like a candle in a dark light— the only source of light in the place.
Cascada wanted to approach her, but was distracted when she her muffled screaming through the blaring music of the club. Cascada, being who she was, scurried toward the noise. When she neared the source she was met with a locked door, with the quick wave of her hand, the door was swung open without a sweat. The visual she was met with was terrifying and absolutely horrible.
A man forcing himself on to a young woman. She had a short red bob on, it seemed wet from all of the tears streaming down her eyes. Her eyes shot over to Cascada and screamed for help. Without any questioning, Cacsada used her telekinesis skills to grab the man without physically touching him. The invisible force Cascada could manipulate was ripping the man off of the innocent young girl, and all the while, choking him to death. When he took his last breath, Cascada hurried to the girl's side to aid her in standing up.
The girl threw her arms around Cascada and began sobbing. "Thank you!" She exclaimed in relief.
Again, Cascada's senses were tingling and she felt the same energy she had as when she met Clementine and saw the girl with the blonde wig outside. "What's your name?" Cascada asked, hugging the girl tightly.
"Alice Day." She had a thick country accent, much like Cascada's. Her voice was warm and sweet, like the honey in your tea.
"Cascada." She introduced herself.
Alice broke their hug and looked at the unconscious perpetrator on the ground. "How'd you do that?" She whispered, her voice was still hoarse from screaming for help.
An excited smile danced onto Cascada's lips. "Magic." She answered.
"You a witch?" Alice whispered to her, lowly.
Cascada nodded. "I know about y'all. My cousin, Misty, is a witch too." Alice admitted.
"You want to get out of here? I've got a safe place for girls like you to stay. There are warm beds, clean clothes and fresh towels." Cascada suggested, she knew the offer sounded sketchy, but she hoped that Alice's deep witch roots would encourage her to go along with Cascada.
"Are you my Jesus?" Alice was in awe at the thought of sleeping in a clean bed that night. She had no money and had to sleep on the streets with her sister, Cassandra, often.
"Just a friend." Cascada shook her head.
"Can my sister come too? I'm sure you saw her, she's a doll. Blonde wig? Bossy?" Alice asked, shyly. Fortunately, that was exactly the first girl Cascada sensed as a witch when she entered the club.
Casacada smiled at Alice. "Of course."
* * *
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"This place is beautiful!" Cassandra exclaimed at the beauty of the manor. It was quite elegant indeed, and it had full services of maids, chefs and keepers who'd keep up with the large home.
Cascada was proud of the abode she had created, she knew it was going to come together and feel full once she recruited more witches in need. She wanted to break the news to Cassandra and Alice that they were indeed witches, and that the home she brought them to was actually a school for them to embrace their powers— but she knew she was going to need some help. Help from the very person who inspired her to build that empire. Clementine.
"Girl! Don't tell me you broke your nail from the set I did three days ago!" Clementine snickered as she saw Cascada swiftly enter the salon.
Cascada chuckled lightly. Her sounds and movements resembled much of an angel; they were soft and sweeping. "I'm here to discuss other matters, Clem." Cascada told.
Clementine leaned over the counter, her curiosity taking over. "Your powers are magnificent. And you and I know that they are slowly manifesting themselves because you won't put it to use." Cascada leaned over the counter as well and whispered to Clementine like a schoolgirl.
"Are you suggesting I'm not human?" Clementine scoffed.
"I think you know what you are. It was only a matter of time for you to accept it." Cascada sighed.
Clementine hushed herself, knowing it was true. She had been questioning if she were a witch of a while now. She had heard of the rumors of New Orleans witches, but never thought much of it— she thought it was a folk tale used to draw in tourists. "I have a proposal for you: come with me to my school for young witches to learn and embrace your magic, but, you have to help me with the other girls who recently joined the school. You see, they don't know they're witches. They know of the species, for they have relatives that are, but they have never thought of themselves as one nor have had encounters with their own powers, unlike you."
"Why me?" Clementine asked.
"Because, Clem. You possess a charisma like no other, you are a leader and project yourself as one as well. You'd be the perfect fit for the job." Cascada's words sounded desirable enough for Clementine to accept. And within two days, Clementine quit her job at the salon and moved into Cascada's School for Remarkable Girls.
