Descendants: End of Days

Morgan

Hell's Kitchen, New York City. 1 year earlier

As sirens wailed from the street, and music pulsed from the nightclub down the block, a young girl sat on her mattress, which sat on the floor of the basement of the Holy Cross Church, and opened her bag. Inside sat every belonging she had in this world. The first item she pulled out, an old wooden rosary, she placed around her neck like a necklace. The second, an old Bible with pages missing, she sat atop the lap of her black lace dress, the golden cross and letters shining in the dim light of the basement. The final item, a little blue bow, she fastened into her locks of silvery hair. She took a shaky breath as she slid the Bible back into her bag.
The cab'll be here any day now, Morgan, just be patient, she told herself again. Three days ago, she'd been the one girl in New York City chosen to be sent to a prep school in Europe - Auradon Prep. But for now, her life was here, in Manhattan. More specifically, in Hell's Kitchen. She shouldered the bag and departed from the church, using a hidden exit to avoid disturbing custodial staff up above.

As her stomach growled, Morgan looked at the money in her hand. $15. That's how much she'd been able to find under the pews of the worship hall three hours ago. All of the hot dog carts she usually went to were closed for the night, so she began a three-block hike to NY-Gai-Pan, a cheap Chinese restaurant where she'd gotten her daily meal for all but about four days this past month. Morgan arrived to find the doors chained shut, the lights off inside. A sign in the window read

Due to health and safety risks, this establishment is CLOSED until further notice. The New York Metropolitan Department of Health and Sanitation Services thanks you for your cooperation.

"No!" Morgan screamed. She pounded her fist against the door a few times, hoping this was all just a prank, but then began to sob when it wasn't. "I know it was dirty, but… no…"

She sighed. Taking the backpack off, she took a seat against the sidewalk, her back to the wall, and curled up. Part of her wanted to cry. Part of her wanted to give up and find a McDonald's. Part of her wanted to cut through the chains and sleep inside NY-Gai-Pan, like she'd used to before she found the church - or, rather, before the church had found her. She gave in to her stomach, though, and stood up. She sighed and stared at the Daredevil poster which was plastered on a graffiti-tagged wall across the street before she started to walk back towards the church. Though she passed a number of various doors on her walk, it was the one that nearly slammed her in the face that caught her attention.

The door to a rowhouse on the corner of 49th and 10th swung open without warning, and a middle-aged blonde woman ran out. She was a mess of tears and hysterics, and before she could stop herself, Morgan rushed over to help.
"I can't, I just, I don't know what happened!" the woman stammered out between the sobs.
"Miss, I'm gonna need you to calm down" Morgan did her best to bring the woman to a state of calm. "What. Happened?"
The woman sniffed a little, and took deep breaths in a successful effort to calm down. "My son" she finally said. "I don't know what's wrong with him, it feels like something out of a horror movie!"
"Wait out here" Morgan told the woman. "Don't call the police unless I come out here and tell you to. Got that?"
As the mother nodded, Morgan ran inside.

The house was trashed. As Morgan helped free what she assumed to be the pet cat from its spot underneath a basket, she heard murmuring - voices, even - coming from upstairs. Before moving closer, she pulled the rosary off of her neck, held it in her hands, and whispered a prayer. As the holy words left her lips, the rosary began to glow a with a vivid, pure light. Armed with this, she ran upstairs, and was greeted with a sight she'd never forget. Blood streaked across the walls like racing stripes. Markings and curses and symbols of dark and hellish origins were inked all over the cracked wallpaper in black Sharpie. The closer she got to the small bedroom in the back of the second floor, the louder the voices in her head became, but she was still able to block them out. She opened the door, rosary held out like a shield, and crept in. She gasped a little, and saw a cloud of black and red smoke collected over the body of a boy no older than 11.
"Begone, demon!" Morgan shouted, inching closer to the cloud as the voices got louder. "There is no place in this world for you, and from this moment forward, I pronounce you banished to the dark corners of Hell from whence you came!"

All at once, the voices hissed in her head when her rosary made contact with the smoke. The demon responded by trying to burn the rosary, and Morgan ended up having to drop it in order to save it. The voices in her head laughed, but Morgan didn't give up. Instead, she held up a hand, palm out, and stepped closer and closer until she could no longer see her hand. She squeezed hee eyes shut and focused, a ball of pure light forming above the hand that was now at the center of the cloud. The voices' laughter became a deafening wail, and suddenly, the cloud was gone, eradicated by Morgan's light.

The next morning, Morgan woke up early, almost beating the crack of dawn. Her stomach growled loudly - last night's exorcism had caused her to completely forget about food, and it had now been two days since she last ate. After picking up the rosary and rattling off a quick morning prayer, she began to hunt for any place that would give her food at such an ungodly hour.

It took her two and a half hours, but she eventually did find a Five Guys. As she came within sight of the church, she stopped. In front of the church sat a black limo, the hood of which held two Auradonian flags over the headlights.
"You must be Morgan LeFaye" a burly man in a suit observed as Morgan approached to investigate. "I'm here to take you to Auradon Prep."