A word in advance:

This will be a longer, continuous story in short episodes, based on a Sims 3 playthrough I am having, where my Sim is running a boarding school, not unsimilar to Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.
I am autistic, with ADHD, so my writing style and mood will differ from episode to episode.
Sometimes they will be funny, sometimes dark, sometimes sad, and sometimes all of the those. I prefer slow burns and build ups and I can never tell when I will write the next episode.
The Prelude will not contain much in the sense of pictures, the following chapters will, however. I usually am pretty economical with pictures, though.
It is a story I am mostly writing for another platform, where the content can be a lot more unhinged, so I will be leaving out chapters here that are too dark or otherwise unsuitable for MTS.
I still hope it will be an enjoyable read for some.




PRELUDE

'So, this is it then', Aouregan thought as she looked at the building in front of her with a light frown. She was carrying an open cardboard box full of books and loose papers in front of her and a cigarette was stuck between her teeth. She took a deep puff and the smoke, that had nowhere to go but straight up, made her green eyes water.
The rather desolate looking pictures of the house she had seen on the sales ad surely were no lie. It looked even slightly worse in reality, if that was even possible.
Three stories of sadness, clad in blue (or where they grey?) boards. Colors were hard to discern in the constant gloom of this town. Midnight Hollow.... what a fitting name for this place. She peaked through the heavy wrought iron gates that separated her from her latest acquisition. If a building could be depressed and tired of life, it would look like this. At least it was, except for the foundation, made entirely of wood. Sure, it wasn't exactly a forest, but it still gave her some power over it.

She spat out the cigarette, put down the box in front of the gate and started rummaging through her pockets for the keys. One of the books saw its opportunity and made a run for it, flapping and making its way skyward. Without looking up or stopping what she was doing, Aouregan let out a short commanding word in a forgotten language that very few on this plane knew about. Even fewer dared speak it this casually. A million eyes from all planes of existence would be looking at you, and the attention of whatever those eyes were attached to was usually not desired. But Aouregan was convinced that at least half of those eyes belonged to her Black Lord and Mother, her Thousand Young, and her other followers, whatever they might be. It was always hard to keep track, when it came to the Old Ones, but the others did not really amass a great deal of following. They tended to be a bit more on the sociopathic end of things.

The word of power did its job, however. For a second the wind picked up violently, the already little light that was present seemed to get sucked away into the distance, the trees in the neighbourhood started creaking, as if the gods themselves were pulling on them, half a dozen birds fell dead from the sky, a scream of agony could be heard somewhere off in the distance, and she felt the familiar feeling of bloody tears running down her cheeks. But most importantly for Aouregan it stopped the book, which fell out of the sky with a soft thud, as it landed on the dust covered street. After finding the gate keys, she slowly made her way over to pick up the book. 'I 'ave no patience for this today, you lurky little shit!' she muttered as she simply threw it back into the box. She blew a strand of red hair out of her face and started fiddling with the keys in the gate.
The lock, seemingly surprised by this sudden abuse after resting undisturbed for what must have been a century, gave up and disintegrated. A rusty spring and some screws flew out of it and the gate opened slightly. 'Huh...' she thought '... why am I not surprised?'
She gave the gate a slight push, watching it with a raised eye brow, expecting it to simply fall off the hinges any moment. Much to her surprise it opened, albeit it made a sound that could only be described as the march of the dying cats while it did so.
'The new School for Wayward Girls.... this will be A LOT of work.'



She was tired of having to move every other decade or so, but such was the necessity. Police investigations, vigilantes, concerned parents, and the constant threat of the Vatican's Inquisition with its witch hunters operating in the shadows, pretty much forced her hand. Advancements in technology and information sharing over the past century or so have made it a lot harder to stay under the radar. Her short fuse and rather liberal use of Black Magic were not helpful either. She missed her Bridgeport penthouse. But ever since she had to dispatch those two Vatican goons and her whirlpool had made its way three floors further down in the process, the already obnoxious stink eye from the neighbours had just gotten worse.
Thankfully Midnight Hollow seemed to remain completely unfazed by anything that happened in the last hundred years from the looks of it. She even had to place her recruitment ads in a newspaper. There was no other way to get in touch with this community. She couldn't remember when she last actually held a newspaper.
She looked at the stack of applications that were in a pretty olden style folder on top of the box. She had received those via mail. Not electronic mail, mind you, but paper mail.... with stamps and all that. And all of them hand written. She sat down, leaning against the metal fence, pulled out the folder and lit herself another cigarette.

There were quite some interesting applications. She browsed through them once more. After sorting out all the male applicants (They'd only be a distraction and she had explicitly mentioned that only female applicants would be considered, which already spoke volumes about the capacity to understand simple instructions) and the undesirables, she had been left with six promising applications from an interesting array of women: a lead vocalist in some Korean industrial metal band; a pastry chef with an eccentric sense of fashion; a woman with an unhealthy addiction to plastic surgery and dolls; a pretty good looking young woman that had a weirdly absent facial expression; a middle aged woman with a tad bit too much interest in performing surgery; and last but not least... a recently deceased person. Now, Aouregan was a pretty unbiased person by default, but that last one surely promised to be a very interesting interview. Not that the others sounded boring.
She had the interviews scheduled for the next day. She leaned back against the fence and threw the folder back into the box. Tomorrow would be an interesting day, she was sure.

(No Pictures for this chapter, as it would have meant exorbitant effort to recreate this situation and mods I don't want to install just for screenshot purposes)

Aouregan was falling through the void, facing what she believed to be up. A feeling she knew all too well, even though it turned her stomach upside down every single time.
Absolute Darkness surrounded her, while she was free falling at an increasing speed. She kept her eyes closed, as there was nothing to see anyway, and she felt safety and comfort in the Darkness' embrace. It had given birth to her Lord and Mother, after all. Finally, her descent slowed down and her body was turned upright and into a seated position.
She fell into a room she was just too familiar with and slowly landed on a rustic wooden chair at a small round table with a single candle on it. It was her home back in Poitain.
As her innards came to a more pleasant rest, she let out a loud sigh. On a chair opposite to hers sat Micolau, grinning and chewing on a slice of fresh rye bread.

"Hello, my rose." he said with a loving smile. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Aouregan tried to suppress her tears with little success.

"Mother... Mico died aeons ago. You need to stop doing this... using my 'usband's image."

His smile turned into a wide, fiendish grin and a voice, deep and not from this world, bore into her mind.

"We are going easy on you, my child, but you, out of all, should know best that life is suffering. And it will remain that way until death will offer relief. But we both know that death is not coming for you, don't we? That was our gift to you."

Aouregan let out another deep sigh, as she used the sleeve of her blouse to wipe some tears off her cheek.

"I know, Mother." she paused for a moment "You do not call for me without purpose. What is the Black Lord's demand of me on this day?"

Mico leaned back on his chair, hands folded behind his head, as he continued without his lips moving. Aouregan looked at his facial features, his deep brown eyes and hair.... his beard that had tickled her during so many kisses. She started sobbing, while she was listening to the Mother's demands.

"Nothing happens without reason and everything comes at a price. There is a reason we guided you to this place. The place called Midnight Hollow." he stopped to pour both some wine from the painted clay pitcher she had made him for his 32nd birthday.
"Nothing is as it seems, child, and there is one here, who stands in our way. It is on you to find and remove them."

She looked down at the table, tears still running down her face, as she grabbed her mug and took a sip.
"Ordinary cloak and dagger work then. Who is it and why don't you do it yourself, my Lord and Mother? Surely that would be the easiest way, non? I will 'ave my 'ands full raising the new generation of sisters."

Mico clicked his tongue with a knowing smile, as he answered without actually speaking.

"Now, where would the sport be in that. And yes... it would be no effort. They'd be gone like a candle's flame in a storm. But that is not the way things have to be. It needs to be done by you, sweet child. This is how it must unfold and you need to find them yourself."

Aouregan sighed in resignation. She had learned not to question the Black Goat's decisions.

"So be it then, Mother. I will find them, and once I do, they will suffer and die by my 'and, according to your wishes. A life taken, a life given. I know the cost."

Mico nodded with a pleased expression.

"We know you will, child. One of our Young is near, should you require their aid. Do not call on them lightly. You know the price that has to be paid. We will commune with you again, once it is done. Serve us well and take good care of your fosterlings. Until the deed is done, they will be in danger, as will you."

And with that both Mico and the room disappeared.

Aouregan woke up in her bed with a loud gasp and drenched in cold sweat. After regaining her orientation, she got up and speedily made her way on tippy toes across the room, dressed only in her night gown. She stopped at a chest, which she gave a caressing stroke over the wood, before opening it slowly.
She reached inside with both hands and lifted out her rapier with the intricately engraved hand basket. She put it down in front of her and again reached into the chest. This time she pulled out a belt with a holstered flintlock pistol on it and put it next to her sword.

"Oh, my darlings..." she uttered as she slowly drew the pistol and looked down its barrel. "... yet again we 'ave work to do."

She put the gun down and pulled the rapier half way out of the sheathe. Content with its condition, she closed the chest and put both armaments on her bed. The weapons had been unused for centuries... not since her time in New London had she drawn either of them. Not that time had existed in that place anyways. Last time she had drawn them in the face of a self-proclaimed "God". It hadn't ended well. Her heart jumped in excitement. She had missed this kind of work. For a short moment she wondered how the others from the "Last Whisper" were doing, but then decided she didn't really care. They had not exactly parted ways on good terms and any member that was not a demon or like her, undying, probably died thousands of years ago.
"Oh, we will 'ave so much fun, my darlings. Once we find our target, there will be blood and mayhem and death." she said with a crooked smile. She reached for the hip flask that was on the side table next to her bed, unscrewed it and took a good sip from the laced white wine. For a moment a subtle green flash shot through her eyes and she immediately felt her jaw clenching.

"We will 'ave... sooo much fun, indeed!" She burst into a maniacal laughter, as the first rays of sunshine (If one could call it that in this place) became visible through the window.
Soon her first candidate would arrive. Her laugh slowly faded and was replaced by a wide and weird smile. It was time to get ready for the day.

Rozenn Aouregan D'Armand, nicknamed "Rien"... 'nothing', rose up with a determined grin, as she dropped her gown onto the floor. She grabbed her leather pants from the nearby chair and pulled them up, fastening them with her weapon belt. She looked at her reflection in the window's glass for a moment.

" 'ere we go again!" she said to herself and put on her shirt, followed by her blouse. She got used to the familiar weight of the weapons immediately, and, boy, if it didn't feel good. She quickly pulled both weapons at the same time, aiming the rapier at her reflection's face, while the rune-engraved pistol stayed ready in her offhand. She mock fought with her blade pointed at her reflection for a bit. It reminded more of dancing than actual fighting, but it was deadly effective. She hadn't lost the touch. She felt ready for anything the universe could throw at her. That was until she met Katarina Stewart, of course.

Depeche Mode - Ghosts Again

La Verdadera Destreza Rapier Fighting