Captain Hook was standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger, staring at the horizon as purple clouds started to appear in the clear blue sky. He knew the Dark Curse was coming, he'd heard people whispering about it. The royals couldn't do anything to prevent the many rumours from spreading like wild fire. Within a few days, the whole kingdom had been overwhelmed by panic and there was also nothing they could do to stop the curse. And there was nothing he could do to protect his crew and his ship. He was one of the greatest pirate captains of all times, but he couldn't escape the curse.

The whole land was slowly drowning into the dark purplish mist. Gradually, the top of the trees disappeared along with the peaks of the moutains. He could hear the ear-piercing cries of winged creatures as they unsuccessfully tried to fly faster to escape it. The clouds were now expanding on the plains, heading towards the sea. The growl of the thunder was getting louder, like a gloomy, joyless music sending chills down his spine. He sighed in frustration, putting his spyglass away. In a few minutes, they would disappear too.

He, the fearless and merciless Captain Hook, was useless. The anger that he tried to repress for the past few days was slowly taking control over him. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He didn't want to be trapped in that foreign land. He had to find his Crocodile, to kill him, to get his revenge, to honor the memory of his Milah. He knew it wouldn't fill the void, that it wouldn't change the emptiness of his broken heart. He knew. But, a long time ago, he swore that he would avenge his lost love and he planned on honoring his promise.

But in the new land, that promise would mean nothing. He would have no memory of it. It might have seemed like a great solution when all he felt was pure hatred, endless pain and rage. Suprisingly, he didn't want to forget. The anger was the only thing left from Milah. The time came and went and, little by little, his memories were becoming a messy blur, her face falling into oblivion. Anger was all he had. Anger, and the silvered metal of his hook, shining in the fading sunlight.

He was ignoring the growing sound of his crew. He had to remain calm. He wasn't one of those who believed in hope but truth was that, maybe, just maybe, he still could have faith. There was a prophecy saying that in 28 years, a savior would break the curse. He wasn't convinced that true heroes and saviors really existed but that was all he had.

Maybe the curse would be broken and then... He would finally skin his Crocodile. Maybe.

He heard Smee yell one last time before the curse hit them, the menacing clouds swallowing the Jolly Roger.

/

Killian Jones had a pretty normal life. Every morning he would wake up and walk to Storybrooke's harbour. His job was nothing spectacular – he was taking care of the fishing boats. When he would go home in the evening, he would build model ships. It could take hundred hours to compete one single model but he loved it. He couldn't explain why he loved ships so much, he just did. It was quite weird since he spent hours and hours fixing them but he never actually had sailed. It was like something was holding him back. But he wasn't paying attention.

Nothing ever happened in his life. It was the epitome of boring. He had a few friends but he was kind of a loner. He never asked questions, never complained or called directives and orders into question. Some would say he was obedient. He was known as a nice and loyal person, even if he didn't talked much.

Nothing ever happened in Storybrooke. It was like a broken record playing a song on repeat. It was odd, yet comforting.

Until this day.

When he went to Granny's to grab some food after his day of work, he noticed a small yellow car, parked on the sidewalk.

The next day, everyone was talking about how that car had destroyed the town sign.

Here you go, a quick prologue to introduce my new fic aka my first real work in the CS fandom. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

A very big thank you to my lovely betareader Chloé.