𝔬𝔫𝔢

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╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

bitchcraft: part one

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝



There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun,

& it's been the ruin of many a poor girls, & god, I know I'm one.


House of the Rising Sun

Lauren O'Connell

0:44 ────༓──────────────── 3:05



CINNAMON. CHARRED CEDAR. MILDEWED PARCHMENT. The smoke of a lit cigarette wafting through the open window. A bustling New Orleans street muffling the crinkle of the pile of paperwork in her hands folding over. Alone, anyone would find the flooding of their senses to be a distraction. For Corey, it was just another day in her office at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies.

She flipped through the files for the brand-new addition to their collection of misfits. The pile next to her held the documentation of the other recent transfer students: Nan, Queenie, Madison Montgomery. The pad of her thumb skimmed the description ofthe newest girl's powers as she brought her cup of coffee— black, two sugars—to her lips.



𝚉𝙾𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽

𝟻'𝟺"

𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙷𝙰𝙸𝚁

𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂

𝟷𝟽 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙾𝙻𝙳

𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝚆𝙴𝚁𝚂—

𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚆𝙸𝙳𝙾𝚆:

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙾𝙻𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙱𝚈 𝙲𝙰𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙻 𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝚂𝙴𝚇𝚄𝙰𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙲𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝚄𝙿𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.

𝚅𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙼𝚂: 𝙾𝙽𝙴.

𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚂: 𝙾𝙽𝙴.

𝚄𝙽𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙴 𝙴𝚇𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙻 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙵𝙴𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈.



The redhead sighed as she closed the manila folder and tossed it haphazardly against the other three files on her desk; another witch that knew nothing of their lineage. Corey wondered if their coven would soon die out altogether. When she was young, her mother would tell her stories of their ancestry— bedtime stories for when the tour bus felt less like home and more like a shuttle to nowhere.

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