The underworld, a place of nightmares and dreams, it is a simple place where creatures of the imagination live in harmony. They are ruled by a gentle queen who uses her powers to bring justice to those who are corrupt.

Centuries ago the queen was placed under a curse by her envious sister. The sister was put to death by the king. At the birth of the queen’s first child she will fall into a dreamless sleep, a trance of death. The child itself will be a demonic beast.

The only way to break the curse is to capture twelve human virgins, each one representing a sign of the zodiac and placing them around the queen’s tomb in a ring of caskets. The virgins are then submerged in Vermillion, the blood of the queen, placed in a dream filled sleep.

The laws state that no member of the underworld may pass into the over world. No one could enter the over world to get the human virgins. All hope was lost until forty years ago, a young maiden wandered into the underworld. A female bandit had entered the underworld by mistake, she showed no fear of the ghostly inhabitants.

She was taken to the king who immediately saw that this woman had a gift, she was a Wicca, a person who could utilise their own soul to manipulate all around her. Realising this, the king showed her the queen’s tomb. Understanding the heartbreak the king had, the woman returned to the over world, determined to break the curse.

The Wicca is an unusual clan, they are known as cursed people, the Good People, the damned. A past of massacres of this tribe have left them cursed by the normal world. Any Wicca blood spilt gives them new life as twisted children of the night, the spawn of the underworld. Their new inhuman forms reflect the nature of their demise and defy all laws of nature.

Time has passed, the Wicca maiden has planned and assumed the alias of Death Jester. A life of kidnappings took its toll as she gained the attention of the Templars. Accused of witchcraft she was burned at the stake leaving everything behind.

But her daughter still lives on…

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The forest loomed around her, the terrified girl ran through the night. The inky darkness engulfed her. Smothering her senses to the point where she couldn’t identify anything around her. She was just a child wearing a shapeless sack like dress, her hair was blood red and used to be long and beautiful. Due to her imprisonment her wavy locks had been cut off so close the child was practically scalped. The back of her neck had four numbers tattooed in black ink, 9497.

“Get the Wicca child!” shouted a guard

Another cried “She cannot escape!”

Her heart kept racing as she sprinted through the night. She had no idea where she was going but she knew she had to get away from Bedlam.

Nearby on the banks of the vast river a young couple embraced each other in moonlight. The veil of silver light emitted from the crescent moon revealed the inner beauty of the forest. The night was a time of misunderstood beauty, misunderstood love. He gazed at his wife with loving eyes, she had long scaly snake tails for hair, her ears were webbed and fin like, her legs were eight tentacles that swirled around her like a skirt, long fins extended from her elbows like silk. She only wore a tight charcoal bodice decorated with turquoise swirls, a dull red sash around her narrow waist. Her human face held beauty beyond comparison despite the smooth scales that covered the left side of her face.

“Can you believe it?” she asked “In a few hours we’re going to be parents!”

“Where did you bury the eggs Syldra?”

“Near here Jacque”

Syldra turned to her husband with a smile. He possessed the vague form of a human, his body stretched out. His mouth was lipless but had rows of fang like a shark. One of his three eyes was stitched up. He was a living jester doll. Possessing no nose but a strange stitch ran down the front of his face and all the way down the front of his body. He wore a tattered tunic and pants that were brightly coloured. She slithered faster than him eager to find her nest. Her swift agility was an advantage from having eight legs. Abruptly stopping as she came to the location. Syldra stood there, void of emotion.

“Syldra? What’s wrong?” Jacque paused as he saw what his wife was so mortified by. The eggs she had laid were smashed upon the ground. The remains of the pearly white shells were drenched with the fluids and blood of their unborn children. Syldra said nothing as she fell to her knees. Her eyes were enough to reveal the sorrow in her soul as she wept bitter tears of despair. Jacque knelt down near her and put an arm around her, holding her tightly. He too wept for the lives that could’ve been. “Those no good, little bratty punks! How dare those humans unleash their children upon us!? Haven’t they made us suffer enough!?”

“Jacque” said his wife “Getting revenge on them will not bring our children back”

“But this was our last chance for us to have children”

“I know… I know…” she was cut off by her tears. Syldra was now at the age where she could no longer bear children, this really was her last chance. Jacque’s heightened sense of hearing picked up on echoes of footsteps in the distance.

“Syldra…” he gently whispered “Someone’s coming, we have to get out of sight”

She nodded solemnly as she took Jacque’s hand. The living scarecrow jester led her into the shadows of the forest.

Behind her a shadow loomed, she turned her head out of fear. That was her greatest mistake. She ran into a tree landing on the wild grass. The girl had no idea where she was, she couldn’t even recognise the forest around her. The figure towered over her helpless form, a faceless Templar looked down upon her with disgust. Tears rolled down her eyes, she knew this was it, Templars never gave mercy to those of Wicca blood. Trembling, she stood up and faced her ambusher.

The Templar showed no emotion as he raised his sword and slashed her, slicing her arms cleanly off just bellow the elbow. He attacked again, decapitating the girl. Enjoying the torture he inflicted upon her. He kept stabbing her flesh, creating painful scars all across her body, tearing her to pieces so there was no chance of survival. The pieces of her fell to the ground as she was torn to shreds. But she didn’t scream. The Templar smirked with victory, Wicca were scum, every child killed was one step closer to their extermination. A job well done the Templar sheathed his sword and walked off, he didn’t have the materials to set the child’s body aflame.

“Syldra” Jacque tried to stop her from leaving his side

She slithered over to the poor child and looked down upon the girl’s torn up corpse. As a cursed Wicca she had seen some grotesque things, but this was a gruesome death even by her standards. Long ago Syldra was once human as was her lover Jacque, but the love between Wiccas was seen wrong when everyone else wanted them dead. As a result Syldra was thrown into a pit of snakes, she didn’t die though, she merely awoke hours later in her new half reptilian form. It took years before she found Jacque again, she had no idea what the mobs did to him. Syldra looked down upon the dead child. She was crying in agony, looking at Syldra in fear. She was still alive.

“Save her…” whispered a voice in Syldra’s head “Raise her as your own”

Syldra looked around “Who are you?”

“Oberon”

“The king of the underworld”

“This child is needed to finish what her mother started…”

The voice vanished from her mind, Syldra froze, of course, this girl was a Wicca. All Wiccas were cursed to be reborn as hybrid monsters of the underworld. The type of monster they became was reflected in the way they were killed and reborn. She retrieved a needle and thread from her pocket and began to stitch her up, just like a tormented ragdoll. The girl was unconscious from the pain as Syldra sewed her back together again. As she did, the child evolved a long serpent tail and webbed reptilian ears. ‘That must be because of me…’ Syldra thought as she continued stitching.

Jacque leapt from the shadows and ran towards his wife. “Syldra, what’s gotten into you?”

She replied “Where have you been?”

“Um… nowhere… what’s going on?”

“We have a daughter” she cradled the newly stitched up girl, her reptilian qualities in full view.

Jacque saw the child passed out in Syldra’s arms. He didn’t know what to think of the situation.

“She has nowhere else, please, can’t you see she needs a family?” pleaded Syldra

‘She’s always wanted to be a mother. If it’ll make her smile’ Jacque gently stroked the child’s shaven locks, it felt so unnatural for a child to be treated this way “I know what you mean… I guess from now on she’ll be our little ragdoll”

“We’d best get out of here before that Templar returns, it’s already been too long”

“He ain’t coming back” smiled Jacque, his fangs stained with blood “That’s why I disappeared before” he nervously laughed “Not the best way to start as a father”

Syldra smiled seductively at him “I think you’ll make a great dad”

The two cursed lovers kissed in the moonlight. They had a child.