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ㅤㅤㅤThe tragedy had shocked the town. It was a bright Sunday morning, but that Sunday, the very heavens had shined down on the property. The windows glistened and the nature grew brighter.
(Y/N) wasn't religious, really, wasn't one for all the prayer and hymns but that day, God had blessed the Earth with a morning worthy of the angels.
But if God did exist, as she always kept it in mind, He would be terrified at what He created. Disgusted at how they turned out, how they belittled His world.
She had seen and experienced it first hand after all. She could still remember the disgusting black trails, the amalgamations of everything cursed boiling over, the smell of blood, how greedy hands came and tore her apart, pushing past her limits.
Young as she is, she could still remember the red strings of her fate, binding and choking her like a viper.
Starting from her own home, it was only the beginning of chaos. A chaos of unnatural sin. And how could God be proud of such crimes?
Yet, (Y/N) called it home because she had nowhere to go.
Because of their mansion on the hill.
Heaven in hell.
From her bedroom window, she could see everyone else from the village and the roads. As most people were tired and broken down from the travel, streets filled rambunctious children, whom still had the gall to smile.
To smile when the land they've found was rough and broken down just as much them. It had charmed her.
How could it have not? In such squalor to still smile so innocently.
Every single one of them. And the wilderness sensed this, sensed the love and happiness, and grew. It was as if God Himself smiled down on them.
Family was just, like that— it's supposed to be like that. She wished for a home where nobody could hold a candle to their happiness, to their unique aura of love.
That's why it hurt that much more when she saw it.
(Y/N) was always called downstairs early in the morning to train. Always. It was a wonder how her small body could keep up with it. There was always exhaustion in her eyes, the oncoming migraines, and the drainage of her childhood.
She was so, so young and yet age was already starting to get to her. But she didn't want to get scolded again, or worse, so she got out of the confinements of her room and had planned to made her way downstairs when she had saw it.
The floor was stained bright red and led towards the unlatched door of the master's bedroom. It opened wide into the darkened interior of the house, shadows cast onto the entrance, shrouding the trail in darkness.
