The Monster of Hexley Hall
Summary: *Based loosely on The Hunchback of Notre Dame.* Cedric is a reclusive sorcerer who was taken in by Grimtrix the Good many years ago, now living within the confines of Hexley Hall and never daring to venture beyond the school grounds. When a newly recruited student named Sofia begins attending the school, Cedric is immediately drawn to her for some reason. In addition, there is a dark secret lurking below the surface of the pristine magical school's exterior: students are getting severely injured, and some have even perished. When Sofia appears to become a target, Cedric will do anything he can to protect her while also trying to solve the mystery of what is happening to the other students. (An AquaMan Production. Read Me a Story format. Takes place 5 years after my "Season 5" stories.)
Disclaimer: I own neither Sofia the First nor The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Tanya and Nana belong to MarionetteJ2X. Serena and Charlie belong to me, and so do a few OCs mentioned in this story.
Note: I know I said I wasn't going to do A/N sections each chapter, but I felt it necessary to say this. Not every single detail told in the chapters will be told to the kids. Most of the details are just for the sake of you guys as the readers; the kids are being told a less graphic version of the story. Also, note that this entire chapter and most of the next one are italicized, and that's to distinguish between Cedric's childhood versus his present day. Everything happening in the majority of these two chapters is part of the past, so I wanted to indicate that. 😊
Chapter 2: Dark Origins
"Shh, quiet now," a dark-haired woman named Winifred the Wise whispered frantically as she tried to shush her crying son Cedric. Her baby was only a few weeks old, and he'd already started showing signs of very powerful magic. Each time he cried, he emitted invisible waves of magic, and the last thing she wanted was for them to find him…
The Shadow Knights Sect was perhaps the most notorious and dangerous dark magic cult in the Ever Realm. The members were ruthless, ripping children from their parents, wives from their husbands, leaders from their kingdoms—anything to get what they wanted. Most who were taken were used in sacrificial circumstances, but that wasn't always the case. Sometimes, they found those whose magical abilities surpassed even their own, intriguing them, and persuading them to coerce those people into their faction, whether they liked it or not.
Winifred's father had been one of those people, and she'd witnessed firsthand the change from a loving family man to a callous assassin, blasting magical and nonmagical beings alike for the sake of the cult. She'd seen the results of his actions several times, and he'd even tried to eliminate her and the rest of their family, but he'd never been successful, thankfully. Just the thought of her own flesh and blood trying to murder his flesh and blood—
"Winifred, we must go!" Goodwyn the Great, her husband, insisted hurriedly yet in a mostly hushed tone as he ran into his son's room, a worn suitcase hanging from his right hand and his wand in his left. "The Shadow Knights have infiltrated the village! They've already burned down many homes, and I even saw some people set aflame. We must leave!"
"Goody, they'll see us! They'll see the baby! How can we get past them safely?"
"You can't."
The couple gasped and turned, seeing a tall figure cloaked in dark blue robes, his face obscured by a hood as well as a mask over his mouth. The only visible things were his dark eyes, peering out from under silver furrowed eyebrows. They watched in awe as the man shoved his hood back, his mask soon falling from his mouth. He smirked at them, finding a sick sense of glee at the look of realization on the woman's face.
"Daddy?" she asked in disbelief, her arms cradling her crying son more securely as she pressed closer to her husband. "Y-You're here… You're part of this?"
"Oh, come now, Winny," the man laughed, stepping toward her and his son-in-law as they slowly moved back. "You know quite well by now that I've left that life behind. I'm not 'Daddy' anymore. I'm Densik, and you…? You're dead to me." He lifted his hand toward his daughter, blasting her once with a powerful surge of dark magic, killing her instantly. He then turned his powers onto Goodwyn, repeating the actions for the stunned man. He sneered as they lay near each other, both bleeding out and filled with dark magic, their eyes open as if alarmed.
Densik was about to leave when he heard the whimpering and then the crying of the baby Winifred had been holding. He frowned and knelt beside the woman's lifeless body, prying the little one from her limp arms. He read the name on the blanket, "Cedric. Well, isn't that interesting? I have a grandson." He winced in pain as he felt a zap of magic scorch his skin, and he realized almost instantly that the baby had caused it. "Mm, powerful, aren't you? We could certainly utilize that…"
Needless to say, Densik and the Shadow Knights stole away into the night with the baby and several other promising magic wielders, but not before murdering several hundred others, who offered nothing of use to them. For ten years, the cult raised Cedric like one of their own, albeit in a limited manner, since affection and nurturing methods ran scarce in the dark group. They tattooed or magically engraved him with dark markings all over his body, including his face, so that he could never hide his affiliation with the cult.
Upon the boy's tenth birthday in January, the elders of the cult called a meeting, regarding Cedric's future with the group.
"We must sacrifice him to the Grand Beings," the leader insisted, his stony silver eyes piercing through Densik especially, who had singlehandedly raised the boy and taught him everything there was to know about the cult. "We'll drain him of his magic first, and then we'll kill him. He's of no use to us if we harvest his gift."
"You couldn't think to run this by me first, Master Hexley?" he scoffed, waving one hand dismissively toward a few men-guards-who seemed like they were ready to restrain him lest he attacked their leader. "Down, boys. I won't hurt your daddy. I'm just a little peeved that he couldn't let me in on the secret."
"It's no secret that you yourself abuse the child," Master Hexley informed the other man. "There are more scars from your hands than from our magic, Densik. And was it my imagination, or did you attempt to leave him for the wolves when he was four years old? Yet nary a wolf was found, and he somehow found his way back to you…"
"He's a little too smart for his own good," the dark wielder admitted, humming thoughtfully. "At least he got one thing from me. In every other way, he's a disappointment: he's lanky, he's shy, and he's…ugh… He's so…"
"Nice," another man filled in, shrugging. "He's not a Dark Master, Densik. No matter how many dark marks you engrave in the boy's pallid and fragile body, he'll never be one of us."
"You think I don't know that, Rogue?" He reached out in annoyance, shoving a table with its contents over, some of the glass vials and jars that had been sitting on it shattering into unfixable pieces. "Kill the brat, for all I care. But I will get most of his magic." With that said, he turned and stormed out of the building.
Master Hexley smirked. "We'll see about that, Densik."
"And this mark means 'moon,'" the young boy, Cedric, informed a curious bunny that had settled in his lap, his tiny nose twitching in curiosity as the child pointed out different markings on his skin. "Master Densik says I'm a Child of the Moon: an enigma. I don't know what that means, though…" He sighed as the bunny grew startled upon hearing the grass crunching behind him. Once the animal scurried away, he turned, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving sun as he noticed a familiar figure above him. "H-Hi, Master Densik." He yelped when a strong hand grabbed his wrist, yanking him to his feet. He whimpered in pain as that same hand tightened, uneven nails digging into his skin.
"What did I tell you about talking to those stupid woodland creatures?" Densik snarled, using his free hand to backhand the boy, a sickening crack heard as his ring connected with his face. He glared down at Cedric, whose nose was now bleeding from the contact. "You're worthless, Cedric. Worthless, just like the rest of your pathetic family. They didn't love you. They abandoned you, and I alone raised you to become a strong man, and you're constantly disobeying me by talking to fluffy bunnies."
Cedric tried not to cry, because his master would always hurt him even worse if he did. Instead, he tried to use his filthy tunic to wipe the blood from his nose, but he could tell it was still there. His other arm was still in the man's firm grip too, so he was clearly in a predicament. "I… I'm sorry, Master…"
"Don't make it worse by apologizing!" He dragged the boy to their hut, shoving him inside. "Get cleaned up and dressed. You have an appointment with the elders."
"B-But…" The sheer sadness lacing his voice when he spoke would have broken a normal person's heart. "It's… It's my birthday…" Or at least, it was the birthday date that he'd been told. He had no way of knowing for sure if it really was his birthday, but he always managed to cling to the same date every year, because it was a day that was his. Something belonged to him for a change...
"Birthdays are just another day to be alive in this accursed world, Cedric. Now hurry up." He left the hut, slamming the door shut behind him.
Cedric felt like just sinking to the ground and sobbing, mourning the life he'd never been able to have. He'd often thought of running away, but he knew better. These wicked cult leaders and members were far too intelligent and swift for him to successfully flee their hold. And aside from that, where would he go? He didn't know anything outside from his community. In a strange, sad, and even sadistic way, these people were his…family. Beyond dysfunctional, and far from loving. Sadly enough, he was well aware that he didn't even know what love was. No one had ever shown any in this wretched place.
Still, he knew he was different from the others. His body was covered in dark marks, but they didn't match the lightness of his soul and heart. If only he could escape the confines of this never-ending feeling of helplessness and desperation… Still aching from his wound and his master's powerful strike, Cedric did as he was told and began to clean himself up.
The feeling of dread that flooded his body as Cedric was led before the cult leaders was unmatched. He'd been scared of these men since he could remember, and he often feared for his safety anyway, but this wasn't like the general worry he felt. He could tell that something was different… The way they were looking at him was like a bunch of predators encircling their helpless prey. His thoughts came perhaps a little too late, though, as he felt himself shoved into a chair, shackles fastened around his legs and wrists, his body tied tightly with strong rope to the uncomfortable wooden seat.
"Ten years old," Master Hexley cooed in a mocking tone, his lips twitching into a smirk as the boy stared at him in fear. "Ten years since you were taken from your home, ripped from your dear mother's embrace."
"M-Master Densik said my family didn't love me," he murmured, brown eyes filled with sadness. "He said no one wanted me."
"Since you're about to die, I suppose you should know the truth." Master Hexley placed one hand under the boy's chin, locking eyes with him. "Densik is your grandfather. Your mother was his daughter. He killed both of your parents before kidnapping you, and you've lived among us ever since." He chuckled as Cedric's eyes widened in astonishment. "And I believe your mysterious powers have developed well enough that we will finally be able to extract them. Though I do thank you for housing our magic for us, Cedric."
The young boy's breathing grew shallow as he trembled in fear, the cult leader approaching him with his hands extended, the dangerous magic pooling in his palms. He closed his eyes, not wanting to witness his own demise, as the men around him began chanting some ancient language he couldn't possibly understand. The marks on his body felt like they were on fire the closer Master Hexley came to him, and he was sure that he was about to die—
With his eyes still shut, Cedric suddenly heard pained screaming and cursing all around him. The room filled with a rotten stench from incinerated flesh, which he did not want to see right now. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes as he heard every last man around him cry out in agony, including Master Densik, before soon…it was silent. Nothing. He was afraid to open his eyes at this point. What if he was next?
"Open your eyes, young one." The voice that spoke now was a bit softer than what he was used to. It sounded lighter, more welcoming…
Cedric did as he was told and blinked away some of the tears as he stared up at the man before him. He wore a royal blue robe trimmed with white, a red cloaked collar, a green sash around his neck, gold sleeves beneath the robe, and dark pants and shoes. His styled black-going-on-silver hair was parted in three separate sections, but it looked very well-kept. The thin mustache and pointed goatee were an unusual sight for Cedric, because all the men in the cult either had full beards and mustaches or completely clean-shaven faces; there was never anything in between. The grayish-blue eyes that stared down at him were a welcome reprieve from the dark-lined orbs that he was used to. "W-Who are you?"
"I am Grimtrix the Good," he greeted briefly before stepping forward, magically releasing the child from his confines. He noticed Cedric about to look at his surroundings, so he quickly grasped his chin. "Keep your eyes on me, Cedric."
"Y-You know who I am?"
"Everyone in this sect and even beyond these boundaries knows who you are… You're well recognized in the dark arts: a powerful boy with unhinged powers yet to be tamed or realized."
He sighed, closing his eyes again. "I don't want these dark powers… I just want to be normal, Master Grimtrix."
Grimtrix would have corrected him, but he rather liked the feeling of pride and status when the child called him 'master.' He'd never really held station over someone like that, but perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to start. After all, he may have saved Cedric from the Shadow Knights Sect, but that didn't mean he didn't have some plans of his own… There was untapped potential with this young child, and he intended to be the one to uncover it. "Um, yes, yes… Don't we all?" He released Cedric's chin and grabbed his arm, tugging him quickly toward the exit. He heard the pained hiss from the boy and frowned once they reached outside. He looked down and saw the scars, the marks, the indentions from the shackles, and… He wiped some blood away, deducting that the boy's struggle probably led to him accidentally cutting himself on the makeshift trap.
Cedric gasped as Grimtrix held his wrist firmer, the magic flowing from his fingers a pale blue, surrounding his entire arm. Soon, it was no longer bleeding or hurting. He stared up at the man. "Th-Thank you, Master Grimtrix."
The colorfully dressed man, his title so far off from his true nature, just smirked down at the boy. "Yes, you should certainly be grateful for what I'm about to do for you. You will come live with me at Hexley Hall and train with me."
"Hexley? Like M-Master Hexley?"
"That's a rather long story, I'm afraid. But we have all the time in the world for that." He moved his hand to Cedric's, firmly gripping it, and began walking toward a somewhat expensive looking coach in the distance. "Come along, Cedric. Now is when your life truly begins."
Cedric had little other choice than to follow the man, especially with his hand clutched so tightly in the other magic wielder's. He almost wanted to joke that this was the strangest birthday ever, but he was in no mood for jesting. Nothing about his life had been funny up to this point, and from what he could tell… It wasn't likely that this reality would change, even with a man with a name like Grimtrix the Good.
Still, being away from a cult that had stolen him from his murdered parents just to harvest his magic and then sacrifice him would be a blessing. He wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. He could start his life over. He'd flourish and thrive, and not just try to survive.
…Right?
Next Chapter: A Grim Switch
