1.Return to Lunar Wells

I’m back. Back where it all began, the town held secrets darker than the night. Returning to the cursed town, the full moon's allure seemed to have heightened, pulling me with an unmatched force. Facing this majestic mansion, I felt a sense of an overwhelming fear about what lay ahead. Having left Lunar Wells behind four years ago and vowing to live a life devoid of all this, I'm astounded to find myself right back in the thick of it. A week prior, if someone had suggested I'd be back in Lunar Wells, I'd have bet my last dollar against it. Clearly, fate had charted a different course. When my father reached out a week ago to ask me to attend Carla’s wedding, I was shocked and, I must admit, somewhat secretly delighted. After all, it had been years since we had exchanged more than pleasantries, and Carla's lukewarm feelings toward me left me wondering why she'd want me at her wedding. In any case, I had no choice but to accept. I had never refused my father before, especially not after what I had done. A sudden wave of guilt swept through me. Before I could succumb to my own sadness, I decided to head indoors. As soon as I pushed the entrance door, bridging the gap from the garden to the main house, a thunderous voice boomed. “Hello sister”. It was evident who it was even before I directed my gaze upwards. Allow me to introduce Carla, who is my half-sister. We have the same father but different mothers. "Carla, what a delight, as always," I said with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh, the honor is truly mine,” she retorted. "Cut to the chase, what do you want?" I asked, my patience wearing thin in the midst of this pretentious exchange. “Well I couldn’t miss your first day back,” she said advancing swiftly toward me with the swiftness of a werewolf's reflexes, almost as if defying the laws of physics. She took her time grabbing a strand of my hair, her words laced with cruelty as she said, “Your hair is different, I like it. That dreadful bob did you no favors, I must say.” “Let's drop the act, Carla. Why did you really want me here at your wedding?” I questioned. "Because, you see, I find it rather unjust that you believe you can simply slip into a normal life after everything you've done. It's not that simple. You're nothing but a cold-blooded murderer, a monster who took her own mother's life” she said while poking her nails on my chest. I couldn't hold back any longer and lunged at her. I clenched my fingers around her throat, but to my surprise, Carla's reflexes were lightning-quick. Before I could tighten my grip, her knee slammed into my stomach with brutal force, driving the air from my lungs. Gasping for breath, I stumbled back, only to have her fist collide with my cheek, snapping my head to the side. The room spun as I fought to regain my balance, but Carla didn't relent. She surged forward, aiming for another strike. Desperation kicked in, and I managed to duck just in time, her knuckles grazing the air where my head had been moments ago. In the midst of the chaos, “ENOUGH”, a commanding voice echoed from above, instantly halting our brawl. Before us, at a towering six feet, stood my father, Arthur, the formidable leader of the Lunarwells tribe. Carla and I frantically released our grasp on each other. “Jennifer, I thought I had clearly mentioned that you were expected to remain inside the ancient fortress,” said my father. I had not been called Jennifer in a while , and the mere sound of my name escaping my father's lips sent an icy, spine-tingling chill coursing through me. “I just wanted to greet you!” I said. “Very well, you've had your way; now, you shall leave. I demand that there be no drama or mishaps before Carla's wedding. Therefore, I expect you to behave,” my father ordered. With that, he departed. I can't fathom why, but when my father extended the invitation for me to come back to town, I suppose I held onto the expectation of a more affectionate and inviting welcome. Alas, it appears that very little has changed. "You heard him, now off you go," Carla's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "So long, sister," I uttered as I departed from the house that had become a source of dread. The journey from Beeston Castle to the ancient fortress wasn’t exactly lengthy. The ancient fortress is where I spent my formative years. My mother, father, and I cherished countless memories within its walls. It was a sanctuary where my parents and I crafted a tapestry of cherished memories. It was a place that exuded warmth, with sunlight streaming in from every nook and cranny. However, at present, it seemed like a remnant from a time long past, a space where the lingering essence of those beloved moments reverberated in the background, yet the radiance and brightness had faded, shrouding the once-lively memories in a somber atmosphere. The ancient fortress appeared in a state of disrepair. There was no light, only an abundance of dust and cobwebs. The once lush green garden had withered away, leaving behind a collection of darkened trees. Previously, there was never a moment of quiet in this house. However, now it hung so densely that I could hear the sound of my own footsteps. I made my way to my old room, walking past all the other chambers in the house, and settled onto the edge of my bed. Exhausted from the extensive travels and the ordeal with Carla, not to mention the encounter with my father, I simply collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep on the dirty old sheets. As I stirred from slumber, the once darkened room now bathed in the hesitant glow of the morning sun. Its light, however, unveiled a house that seemed even more forsaken and unkempt, casting a stark contrast to the hope it once held. I couldn't bear to endure this any longer, so I decided to freshen up and make my way to the grocery store. There, I'd stock up on cleaning supplies and grab a bite to eat; my stomach was audibly protesting its emptiness. I realized I hadn't eaten the night before either. Thankfully, the faucets still yielded water. I settled into my car and drove to the cherished spot of my childhood - Debby's Diner. The taste of their food was unparalleled, a sentiment I held dearly from my youth. During my time away at college, I had longed for it immensely. Their coffee and buttermilk pancakes were simply incomparable. The moment I stepped inside, the smell of cinnamon and coffee enveloped me, instantly sparking a surge of joy and brightening my mood. I headed towards the counter, anticipating to see Debby, but instead, I was met with a very cute guy. “Welcome to Debby’s Diner,” he greeted cheerfully. "You are...?" I said, visibly confused. My tone came across as rude, though that wasn't my intention at all.