Sweet Evil

Prolouge

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was a cool fall evening in Greendale and aside from the howling winds that threatened from outside, quietness had fallen over the Dark Academy. Zelda sat slouched in her plush black velvet arm chair puffing on a cigarette, watching as the flames of the fire danced upon the log they were searing through. Her body was numb as her mind had taken over, thoughts consuming her as they rushed through her brain.

Zelda Spellman; a notoriously strong witch, with the wit and attitude too back up her strong-willed nature. She has always prided herself on her determination, dedication, and thoroughness.  Zelda has been and still remains a strong independent woman, whom never dreamt of settling down to start a family; but that all changed when she came to the aid of her niece and nephew.  She had taken on the role of a motherly figure, tough and nasty, but caring and soft when she needed to be.

Her family knew not to mess with her and her hot temper, but they also knew how much of a big teddy bear she was underneath all the armour she had plastered on over the decades. She would do anything for her family, and heaven help any soul who threatened them; for hell hath no wraith like Zelda Spellman scorned.

Zelda threw her whole being into work at the academy, her predecessor; the infernal Father Blackwood, had left both the coven and the academy in quite a mess. Zelda knew she had to step up and take charge, returning the academy and its witches back to its former glory. Zelda took pride in all the work she had done, especially the coven's newfound strength within worshipping Heckity. The academy and the coven of witches were stronger than ever before, an accomplishment Zelda had no shame assuming accountability for.

Her magic work, mortuary work, as well as her family, kept her extremely busy all of the time.  However, she couldn't be-rid of a nagging little feeling that constantly raised its voice, a feeling that she never truly fulfilled or acknowledged.  Zelda has always been independent, but as her later years have begun to spring upon her-Zelda couldn't ignore the ongoing feeling of loneliness.  She had never truly belonged to someone, been loved by someone, or been in love. 

There was a soft knock on the door that pulled Zelda from her trance.

"Come in" she bellowed, taking another drag from her cigarette. She had failed to notice that a small tear had escaped from the corner of her eye, making its way down her cheek. She swiftly wiped away the stray tear and glanced over to see who had come to call on her. 

"Zelds, its getting quite late.  I made supper, if you're hungry!" The soft voice of Hilda pipped from the door.

Zelda sighed, then curled the corner of her mouth into a small grin. "Thank you Hildy.  I'll be down shortly."

Hilda could see Zelda's watery eyes and considered for a moment to question her sister, but decades of being turned away had taught her better.  Deciding against her better nature, Hilda smiled at her sister then shuffled out of the dark office.  Zelda inhaled deeply as she returned her gaze to the fire, the feeling of lovelessness creeping back up on her. Zelda took one last long drag from her cigarette before smushing it into the ashtray, then slowly rose from the overly comfortable position in her favourite chair.

Zelda had lived this long without a love to call her own. Why would she need to change that now?