Midnight Blue

Hi everyone! I'm back after the hiatus I predicted I would have. Truth is that I'm having a hard time writting this fanfic, which is something that never happened to me before. But I'll keep trying!

Anyway, here it is chapter number 2 and Taron will be soon on scene! Actuallly on chapter 3, so when should I upload it?

Dont forget te feedback! ♥

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Chapter 1

Anastasia found herself standing in front of the purple door that she had knocked on so many times before. This particular door stood out from others in the neighborhood. She knocked a little bit harder, anticipation was running through her veins. When it opened, she could see a dash of pink hair -saying it was bubble-gum pink would be a cliché but it was bright- and a smile appeared behind it. That vision had the great power of easing Anastasia’s anxiety. Those green eyes shielded her from fear. That tight hug was her clarity in the midst of perdition.

When Anastasia’s life turned grey, those pink waves were all the glitz she needed. Amanda Reinhart was her name, but for Anastasia she was and would always be ‘Mandy,’ her closest friend, so much that at times they turned into one sole entity. They met when they were 12 years old. Mandy was Anastasia’s first taste of American society when she moved to California being but a child. Mandy’s greeting dissipated all her nerves for starting a new school in a foreign country. From that day on, not one passed without them talking to each other.

“You look pale,” noticed Mandy, letting her friend in.

“I’ve never not looked pale,” Anastasia replied, with half a smile.

“It suits you.” Said Mandy, as she sat next to her friend in the huge couch that adorned her living room.

“Mandy… my life has gone insane.” Anastasia burst into tears for the first time in a while.

“When has it not been? That’s what makes it exciting!” The pink-haired girl tried comforting her friend, throwing her arms around her. “I mean, you’re a witch and a rock star,” Mandy smiled.

“I wouldn’t call myself a witch so lightly. Right now I’d like to stay as far away from that adjective as possible. These past few days have been mad.”

"I heard about your neighbors", Mandy said walking to her kitchen while being followed by Anastasia. "It's so sad they were so fun. They had this amazing Beatles vinyl collection". The Beatles were Mandy's favorite band.

Mandy grabbed a pint of caramel ice cream and put it on the kitchen counter just in front of Anastasia.

"I need to tell you something"

"Shoot"- said the pink haired girl offering a spoon to her best friend.

Mandy was very aware of Anastasia's nature. She was always more enthusiastic about Anastasia being a witch that Anastasia herself. But the midnight blue haired girl was relieved she had somebody to talk about it. Only Mandy could understand everything that went on in Anastasia’s life; even being so different, it seemed like they were cut from the same mold. Mandy knew of Anastasia’s powers from the very beginning and always thought of them as her friend’s most exciting feature. Although unbeknown to it, Amanda had powers of her own as well, such as knowing exactly what Anastasia was thinking in any given situation or getting the words out of her friend’s mouth even when she didn’t want to speak.

"I think I killed them… The Jensens"- both stayed in complete silence before a loud laugh came out from Mandy's mouth.

"What the hell? Listen to yourself", she laughed some more "You couldn't kill a fly even if you wanted", those words were followed by a big spoon of ice cream.

"The other night a dark creature tried to murder me in my house. We aren't sure what it was"

"We?", another spoon with ice cream went to rest in Mandy's mouth.

"Me and Barbara. She believes it was a Marugar, a blood sucking demon"

"Like a vampire?"

"More like an evil spirit. They have long nails and pale yellow skin, definitely not some Edward Cullen shit. The thing is that I scaped and then, the next day, both Mr and Mrs Jensen were found dry and in pieces in their bedroom".

"Did you saw them"

"I didn't enter the house but, that's the thing, I didn't have to. I touched Cindy and I saw what she saw inside there"

"Only by touching her?"

"Yes"

"So if you touch me you can see what I've seen?"

"No. Not sure how it works it never happened before"

"Thank God!! Not sure if I want you to see Peyton penis" Peyton was Mandy's long time boyfriend. Both girls laughed "You need to learn to control your power, this is getting dangerous"

"Yeah… I already had a conversation with Barbara about that"

"You can't neglect what you are"

"I am a musician, a successful producer and all of this is killing my creativity"

“There was no blood whatsoever?” Mandy asked bringing back the issue, in shock.

“None. Zero.”

“And what does Barbara mean with you taking over the Coven?”

“It’s nuts. I’m in the best time of my career, I’m working with people I always wanted to work with, I’m involved in projects I always wished for… I am neither ready nor able to throw all of that away to do something I never really cared for.”

“But you can’t escape from what you are.” The pink haired girl repeated

Anastasia stayed silent this time. Mandy was right, but she was also there to witness how hard her friend had worked to achieve her goals. Mandy had always been there, supporting Anastasia, working beside her, making their dreams come true, but she had also centered her friend when she spun away from her axis and always told her the truth, no matter how hard it was. That was one of her pink-haired-friend’s specialties.

“It’s frustrating to know I’ll never have such a close relationship with a man.” Anastasia reflected. Night had fallen, the conversation had extended for hours.

“All you need a man for is sex. For the rest, there’s me!” Mandy smiled.

"After all this happened" Anastasia continued "Barbara wants me to stay a couple of months in my flat in London".

"Maybe changing cities will help to boost your creativity up and you can't go back to your house" Mandy said.

"Actually I don't want to. I was hoping..." Anastasia started to talk slowly "You would give me the pleasure to join me in this self discovering trip". She just made up the plan at that moment.

"What else can you discover of yourself? You know that I'm always up for a trip to London but I can only stay a couple of weeks. I start filming soon and it's the biggest move if my career so far". As a truly Californian child, Mandy was an actress.

"Alright, that works for me", Anastasia jumped and hugged Mandy with a high smile on her face. Mandy separate her and looked at her concerned. "Don't worry, not a sight of Peyton's penis". Both laughed.

During the flight to London all she could thought about was her career. She worked so hard to make her own name in the industry, in such a brutal industry. Now she was at the top of music producers and she probably have to let it all go for something that didn't mean anything to her.

Anastasia realized as she looked through the crystal wall that surrounded her bedroom in her Beverly Hills mansion that it was a dark night, darker than usual. Even though there was a full moon, not a single beam of light could be seen in the deep blue sky, which matched the color of her hair.

It was a Saturday night. At 29 years of age, Anastasia was working, writing songs. Thanks to her family name and her father’s profession, she had chosen music as a career and excelled at it.

Her father, Nick Truman, was the leader of a legendary rock band and passed on to all his knowledge of the business to his youngest daughter. From an early age, Anastasia worked hard to become a famed music producer.

One song was giving Anastasia a hard time. A client had commissioned her with a song about discovering love and she knew very little about it. Luckily, she was an avid reader and as such, she tried to invocate all those romantic novels she had read and hated to help her finish the damn song.

A noise downstairs startled her. She looked up from the paper and placed her eyes on her bedroom door, then looked back out the window but could not spot anything out of the ordinary –except for that darkness which she found strange. Anastasia was sitting on a bench next to a crystal wall, from where she could stare down to her patio and a big infinity pool and some classic garden elements such as chairs and tables. The house was two stories high and all the walls that faced the patio were glass. Those incredible views convinced her of buying that house six years ago.

In spite of being born with a silver spoon in her mouth, the blue-haired girl had worked since the age of fifteen; in music, modeling and even found the time to graduate as a professional musician in the University of California. She was not your typical Hollywood heiress living at her parents’ expense. Nevertheless, she had gone through a rebel phase where she partied every night and went on insane trips around the world, spending money without thinking of the consequences. That often put her in the front cover of tabloids, which dubbed her ‘her family’s disgrace.’

A new noise made her look away from her window. This time, it was louder and closer. They were movement noises. Objects were moving. At that precise moment, she understood why the night appeared as dark and in a millisecond, her brain deciphered that she had to leave that house as soon as possible.

Anastasia took her phone and tried calling her older sister, Barbara; she did not pick up. She tried again with no luck. She decided to compose a text message:

“I’m heading to your place.”

She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, left the pen and paper aside, and full of fear, headed to the entrance.

Anastasia opened the door to her bedroom; the rest of the house looked darker than usual as well. She did not need a flashlight; this was her home, she knew it by heart. As she arrived to the hallway before taking the stairs down, she felt an instant heaviness all over her body, just like she were carrying somebody heavy.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled. “Get out of my house!”

As she got halfway down the stars, Anastasia felt a sharp, deep headache. She had to stop and close her eyes due to the pain, but knew she could not stay there. As she could, she arrived to the lower floor and adjusted her sight to look around her. The heaviness and the headache increased. She took three steps and felt like something or someone pushed her. She fell over her largest couch. It was a short way until the entrance but felt like her arms and legs had turned to butter; it was impossible for her to stand straight. Suddenly, her sight turned red and it was hard to breathe.

Anastasia had to try with all her might to get out of there.

She crawled and made a great effort to make her way to the entrance when she heard a loud roar behind her. She did not stop to look back. One last adrenaline kick made her get up, take the keys to her car from a small table to her right, open the door and run to her car. Still struggling with that headache, she turned on the ignition and drove until her vision adapted to a normal environment. 

One hour later she found herself knocking her stepsister’s door, in Malibu. She knocked so hard and insistently that her sister opened up, scared. Anastasia looked into Barbara’s eyes in panic and couldn’t keep standing. She collapsed at the entrance.

Barbara dragged Anastasia inside to her living room and sat her down on an emerald green futon. “They were at my house,” Anastasia fearfully told her sister. “They came to get me.”

“The night’s unusually dark, I knew something was going on,” replied Barbara as she went to get some fresh lemonade for Anastasia.

“Do you think she’s dead?” Anastasia asked while her sister offered her a glass.

Barbara did not reply. It wasn’t necessary.

Apart from having a musical gift, Anastasia is part of the witch population of the world. The witch community is much reduced and extremely occult. Witches have been persecuted for years because humans tend not to like what they cannot understand. Besides witches, there is a whole compendium of communities with hidden powers and some of them are dangerous even for witches.

Magical powers were granted to two members of each generation of families that had been initiated as witches. Barbara, who had light, mid-back length brown hair and big, green eyes like grass after rain, also had powers and perfectly understood what was happening.

Anastasia chugged the glass of lemonade.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“You won't like what I'm about to say.” Barbara replied. "You need to leave. You were lucky you got out.”

“Leave?!" She exclaimed. "Why were they looking for me?” Anastasia’s huge, turquoise eyes opened wide.

“They know you’re on your way to becoming a powerful witch. That’s not good for them. They want to get rid of us all.” Barbara turned her back on her sister. “There has to be a snitch within the coven,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” Anastasia asked, although she had heard her well.

“Nothing, it’s not important.” Barbara replied, causing suspicion to her younger stepsister. “You should go to sleep. The full moon will be over tomorrow, they can’t attack you anymore. I’m going to throw my moon water away, it’s contaminated.”

Anastasia walked with Barbara to the patio of the luxurious mansion located by the shore of a private beach. There, she had five half-a-gallon jars of water that she placed there every time there was a full moon, to be charged with the energy of the satellite. Together, they took the jars and emptied them in the coast, allowing the liquid to mix with the water from the ocean.

Sleeping was impossible that night. She had faced a beast and she was still alive. Adrenaline was running through her veins and the concern did not let her rest.

The following morning, Anastasia woke up with the sound of the breaking waves that went in through the big window that served as a wall. Malibu had that aura that eased her anxiety and her complicated brain. The sound of the ocean was helpful; she had always felt a connection to it.

The deep-blue-haired girl got up from the comfy bed and opened the window that faced a small balcony, from where she could glance at the entire coast and the backyard of her sister’s mansion. She breathed deeply, trying to fill up her lungs with the salty air and wondered if in another life she had inhabited the depths of the ocean, as a part of some civilization hidden from human stupidity.

She turned on her heel to her bathroom to take a quick shower. The weather was warm enough, so a grey dress and sneakers dressed her body that day. Anastasia always made sure to keep a change of clothes in that house as she crashed it from time to time. Her sister never closed the door on her.

Before leaving the bedroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. The color of her eyes varied from turquoise to aquamarine. They were big, enormous like a doll’s. Her skin was pale as china; she got it from her grandmother on her father’s side –a British gypsy witch. Her lips were small but plump. She decided on the spot not to wear makeup that day. She closed the door behind her and although she had to walk downstairs to the kitchen, a hunch told her to head up to the attic.

Just as her head predicted it, there was her sister in front of a big cauldron. Every witch had a specialty and Barb’s potions (as Anastasia affectionately called them) were the most effective of them all. Then she spotted another figure, her sister wasn't alone. A tall lady with light blonde hair, almost white was avidly talking with Barbara. 

Anastasia took a seat on a red couch that stood out from all the wood around her. The attic was filled with shelves containing strange objects: jars, potion ingredients, and books. A sole rounded window provided the entire room with light. It could not be seen from the outside architecture of the mansion, from the ocean’s shore –that window was hidden under a strong, protective spell. Witches’ dens were personal and only explicitly invited humans could enter them.

The place was decorated with old pictures and paintings showing witches of all times, from gypsies to those brave women of Salem. Witches were always feared because of the power they represented. While men were heads of families whose function was to sustain, hunt, rule, govern and women were displaced to less relTaront activities, witches rose up to do everything the male gender could and more, therefore, many lost their lives. They were never understood and much less respected. Nowadays they lived hidden. The fear was never gone but while living a concealed life they could be themselves and put their powers to practice, waiting for the day the world could finally see them without a dagger slashing their necks. 

The witches’ power was granted by nature. They had the ability to manipulate the Universe’s energies to achieve everything their hearts and minds, at unison, wished for. On the other hand, there were many other creatures that had stolen that power to use for their own benefit and own the world order. Many ruled nations and hurt thousands, they appeared in human form to the mortals’ eyes, but inside they were dark, shapeless, black-smoke-emitting masses with two red slits in the place of eyes. They fed on suffering and power kept them alive. They had no name, because by naming them they’d get the respect they did not deserve. Witches prevented them from taking over the world order, and therefore they dedicated their lives to hunting them and murdering them. When that happened, they sent their heads to the doorstep of the covens’ leaders as a warning that they were, bit by bit, achieving their goal.

That is why witches had to hide their power from humans. They didn’t know which of them could turn into one of those dark masses, except for Anastasia. She had been blessed with the maximum power of empathy. She could read people; know their deepest feelings by only looking into their eyes. When she did not feel an ounce of sadness or joy in a human, she knew she had to run.

Many had connected the power of witches to the devil, and while this is not exactly correct, many witches had chosen to serve evil with their powers. But there was no such malignant entity. Magic could do good and could also cause terrible suffering. Only those who could dominate both sides, light and darkness, could be leaders of the Coven. Many felt intimidated by handling dark arts, while others felt so attracted to them that darkness consumed them. Anastasia’s run with darkness had been scarce but satisfactory, so much that she became obsessed and Barbara had to intervene to regulate those practices.

“I have news,” said Barbara as soon as she felt the presence of her younger sister pointing to the lady at her side. 

"I'm so sorry your Saturday was ruined like that", the blond lady said taking Anastasia but her arms. "You were so brave".

“Yeah.it wasn't like I was having fun anyway so…" said Anastasia in a low voice, as she glimpsed her sister rolling her eyes. 

“They also attacked Mika at her house. They’re getting more aggressive and powerful.” Barbara was making a potion so her eyes were fixed on the cauldron.

“How did you survive?”, Anastasia looked to Mika. 

“I took some paralyzing potion. The best one, made by Barb of course. My heart stopped for a few seconds and they thought I was dead, so they went off for a bit and I ran to seek shelter. I imagine that if they returned, they wouldn’t find me.” Barbara was adding some bright purple dust to the cauldron.

“Maybe that’s why they came to my house. Maybe they thought Mika was hiding there.” Anastasia’s word caused her sister to look into her eyes for the first time that morning.

“Why the hell would Mika hide at your house?” asked the eldest sister. Anastasia shrugged.

Instead of answering Mika looked at Anastasia kindly in her eyes. She took the girls hands and inspection them cautiously. 

"I remember when you were born. Your midnight blue hair got all the hospital talking. We were so glad a witch was born. The first in a decade". The witches population had been shrinking thanks to the necessity of hiding their powers. Magic is like a muscle if you don't use it you'll lose it, as Barbara would love to say. Since the 80's born witches were a rare phenomenon, imagine a blue haired one. 

"Yeah, I would like to remember my birth", Anastasia said sarcastically. Mika always created a sense of comfort when she was around, truth was that Anastasia wasn't very close to the North America Coven Leader as she was called by fellow witches in the continent. Mika ruled with a strong but emphatic hand and she was loved by everyone. 

Mika was a role model but not to her. Magic wasn't something Anastasia focused a lot on. She actually kind of neglected it. Situation got easy out of hand in the past and she decided that magic wasn't going to define her. 

"You are going to be a great leader one day", Mika turned her back to Anastasia and started walking around the room. "But you need to accept who you are and study" She made a pause "A lot".

Anastasia looked at Barbara confused. Her sister nailed her eyesight on the cauldron to avoid the big turquoise eyes. 

"Yeah, I don't know about that. I can't even manage my own life, imagine being in charge of a whole damn coven. Never less one of the most important in the world!", she laughed but neither Mika nor Barbara raised even half smile. 

"She needs time", Barbara said to Mika. 

"Something we don't have", Mika answered. "Your sister told me you own a small apartment in London"

"I wouldn't call it small" Anastasia was interrupted by Mika. 

"I suggest you take some time off to enjoy that gorgeous British grey skies", Mika said.

"Pardon me?", Anastasia was understanding everything now but her brain was trying to block what was coming. 

"You need to leave", her sister said abruptly. "Even if you like it or not you are next in line to be the leader of this coven. And we need you safe, alive and wise. You are going to London and you're gonna learn as much as you can about what you are and your mission in this world".

"I'm almost 30, I have a job and a life here and frankly I never asked to be any of this", she just spit those words without second thoughts. The pain that Barb and Mika felt was instant. 

“I need you to take this seriously. I need you to take magic seriously for the first time in your life.” Barbara said firmly.

From the age of eight, Anastasia knew she was a witch. Her abilities began manifesting, but she never cared too much about them. She never wanted to train or learn. To her, it was something she had to keep at bay. It was just something she could do, not who she was. On the other hand, music was everything to her, so she sought to focus her energy on that.

“Barbara, for Hell’s sakes!” Anastasia laughed profusely. 

“As much as I wish I were lying, I’m not.” Barbara replied, upset by her sister’s reaction. “Anastasia, a power such as yours has not been seen for centuries.”

“But I don’t practice magic! Apart from a couple of spells to date guys in my teenage years and to do well in College, I haven’t done much more,” replied Anastasia.

“Because you have repressed your power. You never wanted to learn how to use it.”

“Yes, from the moment I began seeing people all around that weren’t really there, I didn’t want to keep up with it.”

“It’s your duty as a witch to educate yourself so that you can rule the Coven in the future.” Mika interveneed. 

“I’m at the highest peak of my career, I don’t have time for this.” Anastasia got up from the couch and headed to the door.

“Go ahead, act spoiled! It’s what you do best anyway! Just caring about yourself".

Barbara could sometimes be very hurtful. Anastasia stopped and wanted to talk back to her sister, but thought it through and kept going, out of the attic, the house and into her car. She drove back to Los Angeles, to her place.

On the way she did a couple of calls to Matt, her on and off boyfriend. But as natural he didn't answer. 

I do not want to rule the Coven, she kept telling herself over and over as she drove. She also though she didn’t really want to go back home, but as she got closer, a crowd of people gathering outside the Jensen’s porch called her attention. Anastasia pulled over by her own gate and curiosity drove her straight to the house next door. She made her way among the people and when she got to the front of her neighbors’ place, she spotted two police cars. The house perimeter was surrounded by yellow tape. Standing there was a blonde lady who kept staring at the main entrance. It was Cindy, the youngest in the family. She was about 21 years old. Anastasia always ran into her at LA events. Cindy was the typical party girl, and judging by her choice of outfit –mini dress and high-heeled shoes, she was just returning from one.

“Cindy!” Anastasia called her.

The blonde girl turned her head towards her. Her make-up was smudged all over her face; she had been crying. Cindy signaled Anastasia to come over and so she did, going under the yellow tape.

“What happened?” Anastasia inquired as she walked.

“My parents—they—they’re…” Cindy stretched her arms out to hug Anastasia. When they touched, an electric shock ran through the blue-haired girl. It was so strong that every nerve on her body hurt, her vision blurred and a scene came in front of her: the Jensen’s master bedroom. The father, Carl, lay on the floor. When she adjusted her sight she realized his neck was slashed from side to side. She kept looking all over her body but nothing prepared her for what she was about to see next: half of his body was missing, just like they had ripped it off him. All internal organs and guts were spread around him. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach. His lower belly and his leg were about 12 inches away. Wendy Jensen lay in bed in a similar situation: her left arm was under the bedside table and the lower half of her body was by the bed. As if all of this weren’t strange enough, there was not a single drop of blood in the scene.

Cuts weren’t clean; they looked more like rips caused by a beast. The organs looked clean. The couple looked like mannequins. Carl’s eyes were open and completely white. When she turned to Wendy, she realized the woman was missing both eyes.

The vision faded in a second as soon as Cindy let go of Anastasia. Fear took over her and she understood she hadn’t been inside the house. Instead, she had seen what Cindy herself had seen when she walked in that morning. The adrenaline rush was so strong she abruptly parted from Cindy and fell butt-first on her neighbors’ front lawn. Her expression was one of terror and Cindy’s was one of being stricken by the situation.

“Cindy, I—I am so—so sorry.” That was the only thing Anastasia managed to say before running back to her own place. On the way, she spotted the suspicious looks of a couple of policemen, but she kept on walking, trying as much as she could to ignore her surroundings.

Once home, Anastasia locked the front door and called Barbara immediately. A couple of hours later, the eldest sister was knocking on the door.

“I swear that had never happened to me before.” Anastasia was terrified. She was sitting on her blue futon, sipping on some tea Barbara had made her.

“As much as you try to repress your magic, your powers will manifest themselves one way or another. If you had learned to control them years ago, they wouldn’t come out as intensely now.” Barbara explained.

“I just touched her, but I could experience everything the poor Cindy went through when she found her parents torn to pieces. Terror, shock, uncertainty,” Anastasia explained. “It was horrible.”

“You’re empathic, that’s a normal ability of your power.” Barbara sat down next to her sister.

“Now, tell me, were they dismembered?”

Anastasia nodded.

“Not a drop of blood around?”

Anastasia shook her head no.

“The bodies were clean, just like the entire scene.” Anastasia put down the cup of tea on the coffee table. “Do you think the same creatures that tried to attack me did this?”

“To be honest, yes.” Barbara replied. Anastasia got up in a heartbeat.

“It was my fault, Barbara. It was my fault that they died. It’s my fault poor Cindy is now an orphan.” Anastasia paced around but a force out of her might have made her stop.

“It was not your fault.” Barbara moved her fingers to release Anastasia from the spell. “If you hadn’t ran away, I would be picking up your pieces now, and the Universe knows I wouldn’t do it all by myself. Those creatures were thirsty. Unlucky for them, Carl and Wendy were home.”

“They just came back from Mykonos,” Anastasia said as she sat back down.

So here it is. I doubted myself A LOT on whether I should or shouldn't post this fanfic I'm currently writing, so I wanna share a few disclaimers with you all before I post the first chapter:

1. You probably are here looking for a lot of Taron presence but true is that Taron isn't the main character, this is Anastasia's story and Taron is just around.

2. I Have read a lot of witchcraft stuff and I know a little bit about it but as the genre says (fanfiction) this is A FICTION and probably a lot of withcraft representations aren't going to be accurate with real life practices, mainly because IT'S FICTION and it came out of my head and I actually wanted to be like this.

3. My schedules are CRAZY, and I have just write 4 chapters of this history so it is in process and I know for a fact that fanfiction can take a lot of time to make (I have made a few in the past) so be patient, I can't promise you a chapter a week but I'll try my best.