In Everwood, bad things happen almost every day. It’s almost as if the town was made for tragedy. There are fog-covered streets, hidden schools, and gloomy energy just about everywhere you look.
Gabriella was an unusual girl; she attended an academy that taught locals magic and the power of it. Yesterday, while Gabriella was walking on the path home, just as she always does, she was approached by a man with a dark coat on and a hood pulled over his head, hiding his face.
“Hello, can I help you?” Gabriella asked
“Actually, Gabriella, I’m here to help you,” the man said, speaking slowly and not exactly sounding fully human, almost like a growl.
“And how would you do that?”
“I’ve noticed a few things about you lately. How you crave the feel of more challenging, powerful magic. All I’m here to do is to help you achieve that. Would you like my help, Gabriella?” The man explains. Gabriella thinks for a moment and agrees.
“I’d honestly love that. What do I have to do?”
“Nothing at all! I will grant you the ability to advance your skills with a few simple words.” The man said, and Gabriella nodded as if she’s ready. The man talks in a language that Gabriella does not understand at all, but she trusts the man in a strange way. After he finishes speaking, he disappears almost immediately. Gabriella rushes home to try out her new skills.
She gets home and tries out some simple spells and does them with ease. She goes on for about an hour, progressively making them harder.
The next day her powers grow once again.
The next day she notices how she’s been a bit snappy with people.
The next day there is intense anger running through her almost constantly.
Gabriella feels as if she’s addicted to the feel of power and as if her brain is being consumed by it. A little part of her is still in there and begins to wonder if the man was not telling the full truth.
The day after that, Gabriella is gone. Her body, mind, and soul have been taken away by the curse the man placed on her. Evil takes over. Black blood rushes through Gabriella’s veins. She takes her stand in the town center and starts mumbling words in an unknown language. Everyone collapses.
Annabelle Bastarache, Antrim
Age 13