#ghostxonxcenterxstage

can't wait for tomorrow

The naga had left the tiny village in ruins. Everything was either flooded or torn apart by hungry jaws. Very few had managed to escape the place before the flood began and before the hungry beast had decided to eat those unlucky enough to be trapped in its way. There seemed to be no survivors so far. However, on the top of a small hill lay the bloodied body of a tiny girl wearing a cloak that designated her as a sorcerer's apprentice. Angela. Her eyes were closed and she was still breathing -- barely. ghostxonxcenterxstage

ghostxonxcenterxstage February 1986. It was apparent before Damien could even enter the house that something was going on. Both parents were yelling at each other, loudly enough that you could hear them from the other side of the street. Just walking in the front door would reveal that the parents were, indeed, fighting, and four-year-old Angela was looking on. One of her violet eyes was wide and staring, the other swollen shut. Listening in on what Helena and Walker were yelling would reveal what had happened. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HIT YOUR OWN DAUGHTER!" "SHE NEEDS TO LEARN HER PLACE!" "LIKE HELL SHE DOES!"

It wouldn't be hard to find her -- she was making a lot of noise, hyperventilating and letting out strangled sobs as she rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself down but failing.

"You seem to be more bothered by this than when I got pregnant."

"Huh?" He looks around, confused.