The Wishing Well.
Storybrooke, Maine – Sometime in the future….
'For many years, folks here have put their faith in the Wishing Well's special powers. They say there's something magical about the water underground, flowing from the old world, able to make wishes come true. If you've lost something important to you, all you have to do is reach out and touch the well, and somehow, your wish might come back to you. It's not just a silly idea; it's something families have believed in for decades. So, as you stand here by the well, take a moment to think about what you've lost and make a wish. You never know, the water might just bring it back to you.'
Amidst the tranquil winter scene of Storybrooke's forest, where snowflakes softly blanket the landscape, a menacing growl broke the silence, slicing through the stillness like a jagged edge. Veiled in the shadows cast by gnarled trees, just a few strides from the wavy structure of the Wishing Well, a hooded figure stood tall and imposing before its weathered plaque. The inscription, barely visible beneath a delicate veil of frost and snow, hinting at whispered wishes and dreams.
But to the visitor, the words etched upon the plaque were not a source of hope or wonder, but rather a bitter reminder of the tales spun by their parents in days long past. "Lies," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with disdain for the stories of great legends, fairy tales, and true love that had once filled her with a naïve hope.
Stories that now seemed nothing but cruel fantasies in the wake of her own harrowing experiences. Her life, once filled with innocence and promise, had been irrevocably shattered by unspeakable trauma, transforming her into a dark and twisted embodiment of fear and destruction. Feared and branded as a monster by all who crossed her path, the hooded figure harboured no remnants of humanity within her hardened heart.
As she stood there, clothed in a black leather jacket that obscured her blonde locks, she exuded an air of dark defiance amidst the serene winter landscape. Her piercing blue eyes burned with scorn and resentment, contrasting sharply with her beautiful pale skin, as she plotted her revenge against the land and its people who had cast her aside.
And she wasn't alone, slung over her shoulder was a young woman, not a fellow traveller, but a pawn in her sinister game, a former lover now reduced to nothing more than a tool to be wielded in her quest for vengeance. As she gazed upon her captive with cold detachment, no flicker of remorse or pity crossed her features. The woman's long auburn hair, now matted and tangled from captivity, cascaded over the blonde's shoulder, her once-beautiful porcelain skin was now blemished with cuts and bruises. Her clothes, once fine and elegant, were now worse for wear, a testament to the hardships she had endured at the hands of her captor.
The hooded figures intentions were clear – to escape this land that had forsaken her and unleash untold havoc upon those who had dared to abandon her in her time of need. With her soul consumed by darkness and despair, her path was set, and nothing would stand in the way of her relentless pursuit of chaos and destruction.
As she moved away from the plaque, each step left a deep impression in the untouched snow, her Doc Martis tracing their path through the wintery forest towards the age-old Wishing Well.
Reaching the structure, her gaze bore into the dark depths below. With a graceful fluidity, they ascended onto the weathered ledge, their boots finding precarious purchase on the stone surface. Balanced on the edge, they hesitated for only a moment before plunging into the abyss, disappearing into the Well's mysterious depths.
A blinding flash of white light erupted from the Well, casting an otherworldly glow upon the snow-covered terrain. As the brilliance faded, silence descended once more upon the forest, broken only by the soft rustle of falling snow. The only remnants of the blonde's presence were the eerie footprints etched into the snow, leading to the edge of the Well. The mystifying figure and her captive, engulfed by the Well's mysterious embrace, had vanished without a trace.
Storybrooke, Maine – Sometime in the past…
The serine tranquillity of the woodland was violently shattered as the earth beneath the ancient Wishing Well began to tremble and convulse. With a low, ominous rumble, the ground cracked and churned, sending small rocks and debris spiralling into the air like disturbed spirits. A palpable tension hung in the air as the forest echoed with the unsettling sound.
Suddenly, the atmosphere was engulfed in an intense beam of light, searing through the emerging dawn like a celestial beacon. The radiant glow expanding with breath-taking speed, casting stark shadows that danced eerily against the towering trees, which stood as solemn sentinels guarding the Wishing Well.
As the white light subsided, a figure emerged from the depths of the Well, its silhouette cloaked in darkness and foreboding. With a jarring thud, the limp form of a woman with auburn hair was hurled from the Well, her body tumbling to the ground below like a discarded puppet. The debris suspended in the air seemed drawn to her, descending with a chaotic flurry before violently crashing back to the earth, as if the forest itself recoiled from the violence unleashed within its midst.
The impact of the woman hitting the ground echoed through the woodland, accompanied by a sickening crunch of bone snapping upon impact. A gut-wrenching scream pierced the air, shattering the tranquil silence of the early autumn morning like shards of shattered glass, a haunting testament to the darkness that had been unleashed upon the forest.
As the young woman lay on the forest floor, her body twisted in agony. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she gasped for air, her trembling fingers reached towards her broken ankle. Blood oozed from the shattered bone, staining the fallen leaves beneath her with dark crimson.
With blurry eyes, the redhead looked up at the looming figure descending from the Wishing Well. Fear gripped her heart, tightening like a vice as she pleaded for mercy. "Please… please…" she whimpered, her voice choked with pain and terror. "Don't… don't do this!" Her words echoed around her, desperate and pleading, as she awaited the dark figures approach with dread.
The young woman's heart hammered against her ribcage, a frantic rhythm reverberating in her ears as she scrambled desperately away from the looming figure. Every nerve in her body screamed with terror, her limbs trembling uncontrollably as she fought to put distance between herself and the unknown. The air was thick and with each ragged breath she took it became a stark reminder of the impending doom she felt.
With desperate determination, she reached out, her fingers digging into the moist soil, each grain slipping through her quivering grasp. She struggled against the relentless pull of the earth, her frantic efforts to pull herself to safety met with the unsettling sensation of the ground betraying her, taunting her as she battled against its unforgiving hold.
The figure, moved towards her with an unsettling grace, their footsteps echoing ominously through the silent forest. It was as if they were gliding, their approach measured and deliberate, sending a chill down the redhead's spine. She felt like a cornered animal, her pulse racing with a primal fear unlike anything she had ever known.
As the figure drew closer, the young woman's eyes darted around desperately, searching for any means of escape. But the woodland was an empty void, and the snow that had blanketed the ground just moments ago was now gone, leaving behind a vibrant carpet of fallen leaves in shades of fiery red, burnt orange, and golden yellow. The colourful hues clashed with the horrors unfolding within the forest.
Without warning, a pale hand shot out and seized the redhead's shoulder, its grip like iron as blunt fingernails teared through fabric and pierced flesh. A sharp cry escaped the redhead's dry, cracked lips, her body freezing in terror as she felt herself being pulled back. As she was dragged, her fingers, which had been desperately digging into the earth, left a trail behind her, a futile attempt to cling to any semblance of safety.
The hooded figure grew impatient with the redheads' feeble attempts at escape, and with a sudden burst of strength, they flipped her onto her back with a violent force. A sickening crack echoed through the woods as her head collided with the unforgiving forest floor, sending a sharp jolt of pain coursing through the woman's skull.
Her vision blurred as she struggled to stay conscious, her head spinning from the impact. Waves of dizziness washed over her, clouding her sight, and leaving her disoriented. Through the haze, she could make out the dim outline of the hooded figure looming over her, their features obscured by the shadows cast by their hood.
Beneath her, a warm, sticky liquid trickled down the back of her neck, the metallic scent of blood filling the air and mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. The young woman's heart pounded in her chest as she lay defenceless, her senses overwhelmed by the terrifying reality of her predicament.
As she slipped into unconsciousness, she felt the figure's hand softly stroking her hair, a mix of possessiveness and kindness. "Such a shame," the figure muttered, their tone indifferent. It hit her then – this was it; this was how she would die. In the heart of the forest, defenceless and alone.
Suddenly, a firm grip seized her chin, wrenching her head upwards with a viciousness, snapping her back to reality. As her vision cleared, she found herself locked in a tense gaze with the figure, finally confronting her captor face to face amidst the eerie stillness of the forests embrace.
A tidal wave of shock surged through the girl, her features contorting in disbelief as she locked eyes with her captor, once the cherished love of her life. She attempted to call out the name, "Fr...," but before she could finish, her voice fractured into a gut-wrenching sob, suffocated by the deluge of memories crashing over her.
Her heart shattered into a million irreparable fragments as pale, fingers silenced her chapped lips, injecting an icy chill into the already haunting scene.
Tears streamed down her cheeks like a relentless cascade, each drop a testament to the agony consuming her soul. The faint cry that escaped her lips echoed through the desolate forest, reverberating with the raw anguish of betrayal and longing.
As she stared into the abyss of the woman's eyes, once pools of warmth and affection, now transformed into dark, merciless slits, the pain of loss tore through her with an unforgiving ferocity. Blonde hair cascaded from the predator's hood, framing her pale face as the autumn sun glittered through the dense canopy above, now risen, casting an ethereal glow upon tangled limbs on the forest floor.
With her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, the young redhead summoned every ounce of bravery within her to push the relentless blonde away. Each failed attempt felt like a stab of defeat, yet she refused to yield, her frustration boiling over as she flung her arms out in a desperate search for anything that could serve as a weapon—a stone, a brick, anything to tilt the odds in her favour.
As the menacing blonde creature drew closer, a wave of dread washed over the redhead, her pulse quickening with every inch the assailant advanced. The grip on her wrist felt like cold steel, anchoring her to the dirt-ridden ground as though her very soul was being shackled. With tears blurring her vision, she writhed and squirmed against the unyielding strength of her ex-lover, each movement accompanied by gut-wrenching sobs that echoed through the desolate landscape.
A malicious smirk twisted the lips of the hooded blonde, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement at the redhead's futile struggle. Her voice dripped with icy cruelty as she spoke, the words like daggers plunging into the redhead's heart. "Stop fighting, darling," she taunted, her tone laced with venomous glee. "What's about to happen is inevitable." The weight of her words hung heavy in the frigid air, suffocating the redhead with a sense of impending doom as the deep, husky voice slurred above her, sending chills down her spine.
In a whirlwind of desperation and terror, the young redhead's bony fingers finally closed around a fallen branch within reach of her pinned body. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as her heart thundered in her chest, adrenaline flooding her veins. With a primal scream building in her throat, she acted on pure survival instinct, her mind unable to process the chaos unfolding around her. With a fierce determination burning in her eyes, she brought her right knee up with all the strength she could summon, feeling the impact reverberate through her bare foot as it connected with the blonde creature's torso, sending it reeling backwards.
Every fibre of her being surged with a potent mix of fear and rage as she launched herself forward, her grip tightening around the jagged branch clenched in her trembling hand. In that pivotal moment, she was driven by an unrelenting desire to survive, to defy the odds stacked against her. With a guttural cry tearing from her throat, she thrust the makeshift weapon forward, the sharp tip finding its mark with a sickening thud. Puncturing just below an un-beating heart.
More annoyed than pained, the hooded figure reluctantly released its grip on the young woman, leaving behind deep indentations of her fingernails in the redhead's skin. With a growl of frustration, the creature fell to the ground, clutching at the branch embedded between her ribcages, the pain shooting through her like lightning with each movement.
With desperation etched on her face, the injured woman scrambled to her feet, her broken foot dragging heavily along the forest floor leaving a trail of blood through the dirt. Every step was agony, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought to flee. The cold air stung her chapped lips as she exhaled, her heart pounding with fear and determination. Despite the excruciating pain, she pressed on, driven by an instinctual need to escape her captor and find safety in the light of an autumn morning filtering through the dense forest.