A/N: I wrote this originally for Halloween, but I didn't feel like it was well enough to post. This will be a short story.
Disclaimer: Twilight and all its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Any new characters, the plot , and story are all mine.
Enjoy!
April 1697:
It was a dark stormy night in Salem, Massachusetts. Not a sound could be heard, but the howling of the wind and the violent pitter-patter of the rain hitting the ground.
Off in the distance, the irregular sound of slogging feet in the deeply muddied roads.
Along the lonesome street, down the eerie path that leads through the darkened woods lived three families.
The Higginbothams, The Cromwells, and The Bishops. Three different families yet the same. See all is not what it appears.
Three sisters born from Margery Leanne Alden, youngest daughter within the Alden family, and Ezequiel Nurse, a locksmith.
Thus birthing three daughters. Evanora, Alizon and Cassandra Nurse.
Those were the original three. Born of powerful descendants who originate from somewhere in the middle east.
A powerful bloodline cut short...
The three sisters then grew up, later marrying Eliphias Higganbotham, Gerald Cromwell, Scott Bishop.
It is only after each had two children each that the prophecy came to light. Forcing them to make a drastic decision.
They all watch their children grow before them… unable to do a thing to change or deter fate's evil claws.
It is said on that fateful stormy night that even the weather seemed to know what was about to occur. The violent winds howling in pain for its daughters. Rain falling hard and fast, like the continuous cry of a broken heart.
The three women quickly rushed to hide their beloved oak trunk under the large underground compartment that is hidden beneath the floorboards. They slam the wooden floor shut and quickly throw an old skin rug on the hidden panel.
Suddenly, the sound of sloshing, muddied footsteps could be heard as the angry mob slowly made their way into the woods.
The three turned to look at each other solemnly.
"Sisters, it is time." Evanora says.
"A-are you sure there isn't another way out of this Nori?" Alizon asks, fearfully.
"No, I am afraid there isn't Ali." She says back sadly.
"All avenues were searched, dear sister. You know the rules Alizon, we can not harm any humans." Cassandra adds.
"Remember, we must sacrifice ourselves for others to live. We won't be truly dying tonight..after all." Evanora whispered.
"Let us do what we must, so our families can get away." Cassandra says, tearfully.
"Let us then." Alizon says sadly, glancing at her sisters.
Within seconds the winds began to howl harsher than before, the small cottage like house shook as the wind carried through it.
The fire burning within the hearth went out but for just a second.
The three women join hands, closing their eyes in concentration as they murmured the old Latin language, within their books.
Tensions began to rise as the muddied steps grew closer to their location.
Scott, Eli, and Gerry hide with their children in a snapper, hidden under thick blankets and other things alike.
"Where is momma, poppa?" A little girl asks.
"Shh...now, pumpkin, we mustn't be heard." The man whispers, hugging the small child closer to his chest.
They could all hear as they listened to the mob pass by.
It is there when three women are ripped away from their families, and taken back into town, where they are put on trial for things they hadn't done.
Evanora Higginbotham, Alizon Cromwell, and Cassandra Bishop are sentenced to immediate death. Never to be seen alive again.
At least, that is what is believed.
No one truly knows what happened to them. Not even their own families.
1993: (birth)
"Neé, come on! We don't have time for this! I have to get you to the hospital!" A young Charles Swan called from the foot of the stairs.
Renee, his young wife, who happened to be heavily pregnant, slowly made her way down the hall, and slowly down the creaky staircase.
"I'm coming, Charlie. Calm down. It's not as if it's easy to move in this state." Renee snipped, stopping every few seconds to hang onto the wall.
The impatience was clear on the man's face as he rushes over to the woman and swiftly picks her up and rushed out the front door, slamming it shut behind them.
A second later rushing back into the quiet house to pick up their four year old son in his arms before rushing out once more, this time locking it.
Only the wheels of the car screeching away could be heard throughout the rest of their neighborhood as they speedily drove towards the hospital.
It isn't until almost ten hours after their rapid arrival to the hospital that their daughter is brought into the world. Unbeknownst to them that just in the rooms down the hall and across the hall another two girls are born at the same moment she is.
Just like that the prophecy of the witch sisters is complete.
It is then Isabella Marie Swan, Mary Alison Brandon, and Rosemary Anne Hale paths are destined to be intertwined.
Born to Reneé Higginbotham and Charles Swan, Liddia Cromwell and Edgar Brandon, Lillian Bishop and Bryan Hale.
Thus realizing said prophecy is about to be solidified.