Once Love, Now Destruction


“What do you want notwGellion?” a woman with striking emerald eyes spoke crossing her slender arms across her chest.

“Now Isadora, don’t be like that,” the werewolf scolded as he drank from his wineglass. “I just need one more little thing from you.”

“I know you have acquired my niece, she is perfectly capable of fulfilling any of your needs. The last time you asked for something from me my husband ended up dying,” she hissed as she placed her chestnut ringlets back into place.

Gellion sighed, “You know good and well that he knew what was going to happen when you casted that curse on the Cords. Dark magic comes with a price, and the leaches wouldn’t be suffering right now if not for his noble sacrifice. He was ready to die, Isadora.”

She glared at him, very tempted to show him the full extent of her power, “What is it that you want, your highness?”

“All I want is a little transformation spell,” he stated simply as he stood over her.

“Into what?” she frowned, stepping away from him.

He tilted his head to the side, displeased with the question that came from her mouth, “Your daughter.”

“And why the hell would you need someone to look like my daughter? Haven’t you made me suffer enough?” she spat in his face, her eyes igniting with pure rage.

Gellion put his hands up as a gesture of peace, “All I want is justice for the little girl; she was mercilessly murdered by those… monsters. I want Alistair Cord to look into the eyes of Michelle when Cynda rips out his heart. I want him to know why he’s dying, and I want him to suffer for it.”

“The curse will take care of him,” Isadora stated as her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He walked behind her, and breathed in her ear, “Yes, but only he will die. I want every single one of those creatures to die for what they have done to us.”

“I thought you said you wanted them to suffer like we have, to have their heir meet his demise,” she jerked away from him like he was poison – and that’s exactly what he was.

“I’ve had a change of heart. Think about it Mrs. Wither, as long as Abigail and Brandon are still breathing they will do whatever they please. As long as they’re alive, our lives are in jeopardy. I don’t know about you, but I can’t live that way, knowing that they are still out there.”

Isadora hesitated for a few moments and then nodded her head, “By doing this Darius’s sacrifice would mean nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Gellion disagreed, “he was a noble man who had given his life so his daughter would be avenged. He is a hero in my eyes, along with everyone else that knows your tragic story.”

Isadora nodded her head solemnly in acceptance, “When do you need the spell?”

“Today, I’ll send in your niece. And after she rips out their hearts, I’ll give you what you desire most as payment,” he amended.

“Which is?” she asked, confused by what he was saying.

“Your death,” he bent down to kiss her hand and then left without another word.

Isadora seated herself in the chair near the window, overwhelmed with the sudden wave of the once muted pain that crashed over her. Her little angel that she had only held for a few precious moments had been stolen away mercilessly from her by the demons with fangs. She and her husband scoured the lands in hope that their baby girl was out there waiting for them. For a decade they searched for her, but they never did give up hope that their family would be reunited one day.

Those hopes were demolished with the news of their daughter’s whereabouts had traveled to the small village where they resided. The vampires’ hidden castle had burned down to almost nothing with their child trapped inside. Those monsters abducted their innocent baby and used her for her magic, keeping her locked away in a cage. And then they burned her alive along with their home when they felt that she was no longer of use to their sadistic ways.

She and her husband were completely heartbroken, but they knew they had to avenge their angel. They had to pay for ever thinking that they could cross a witch and get away with it. They had to pay for stealing an infant and sentencing her to damnation. They had to pay for destroying a little girl who was perfect and innocent in every way, shape, and form. And they did pay.

Prince Alistair would die as a consequence, so that the royal family would feel like she and Darius felt. He would die a slow, agonizing death and they would watch their world cave in around them. They would all be damned to their precious castle, so that they would know what it was like for her precious daughter. And they would burn in the sunlight, so they would live eternity in darkness just like Michelle did and would never touch anything so pure and bright again, just like they couldn’t touch their angel.

However, black magic comes with a very lethal price. In order for the crowned prince to die, so did the person whom she loved the most – Darius. He accepted the consequences and she promised him that she would follow him soon after so that their family would be reunited again. She didn’t intend on living, she knew that casting a spell that powerful would kill her. She had lost consciousness after she casted the curse, holding on to her Darius’s hand.

But she had awoken, and found her husband lying dead on the frozen ground. She cried out when she realized that she would never return to her beloved family. Only another immortal would kill her, and until today she hadn’t found one who was willing.

“Hello, Isadora,” her niece greeted curtly.

“It’s good to see you, Cynda,” she breathed, turning her attention towards the brunette that stood over her.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Cynda gestured toward herself uncaringly.

Isadora took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. Her hands clasped together and immediately felt the shock as her magic sparked to life and felt the electricity course through her veins. She focused on the image of her beautiful daughter and what she would look like today if she had been allowed to live. The spell left her lips as she exhaled and when she opened her eyes, her daughter was standing in front of her and the pain was back because she knew that it wasn’t.

Cynda sauntered over to the large mirror across the room and examined herself. She raked her finger through her long ringlets that hung just above her waist. Her eyes had remained the same, except had more of an almond shape to them with long thick lashes framing them. Her olive tone skin was flawless and contrasted against her dark hair. She was average height and slender with the curves that any woman would kill for. She was beautiful in every way just like her daughter.

“Not bad,” Cynda approved, smoothing down her dress so that her newly enhanced curves shown threw the fabric, “Not bad at all.”

“When will you be leaving?” Isadora asked, looking away from her niece.

“A few days,” she brushed off her aunt.

Isadora nodded her head, “Just promise me one thing.”

Cynda rolled her eyes in annoyance, “And that is?”

“Make them suffer.”


(Alistair’s P.O.V.)

My eyes snapped open with the sudden awareness of the rough stone flooring beneath my skin. I hissed as I breathed in her both intoxicating and appalling scent. How did the bitch get me down here?

I rose into a crouched position, ready to strike at her but the room spun around me and I crashed into the stone wall. I groaned, blinking my eyes so that they would focus, but then I heard a deep growl on the opposite side of the cell.

The monster was glaring at me as his large body stood over the sleeping girl – protecting her. I scoffed, how foolish could one be? She wasn’t even worth protecting, not even by the murderer.

I was about to lunge at them, to kill the thing of a girl I hated most when something caught my eye. My clothes lied in a neat pile next to where I once lied along with a pile of hay where my head rested. I raked my memory, trying to remember who had done that, but nothing came to mind.

I bent down to retrieve my jacket, and brought it towards my face. I breathed in the scent of the person who folded it. It was the scent of Elizabeth Ford. I dropped the jacket like it was toxic; completely disgusted that she had been that close to me.

I looked over to the resting girl whose hair fanned out around her with a few strands that partially curtained her face. Her lips were parted, moving slightly with every soft breath she took in. She was still dressed in my mother’s green gown she had worn the night before. Her pale olive toned skin contrasted with the fabric beautifully. She shivered from the frigid air in the room, curling closer to the animal that protected her.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest and I quickly shook of the feeling as I walked out of the cell. Elizabeth Ford is and always will be a bitch. She might try to trick me into thinking that she was some innocent little girl who was abused, hell she deserved it. And I would see through her fakeness.

I wouldn’t kill her today, but the moment her true self showed through I would rip out her weak black heart.
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Happy birthday to Michelle Wither!!!!! Yeah, I'm the nerd that celebrates a character's birthday. Judge me. And this is her birthday present to all of you awesome people! So what do you all think about Isadora? Like/hate her? Please tell me what y'all think! xD
Love y'all!