Ava Luxrose’s story-Zombies of Mariesville

*This story is underneath my folder titled “Zombies of Mariesville”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. Enjoy!*

Once, there was a young fourteen year old girl named Ava Luxrose, who lived in a white mansion that was covered in roses with her parents, Elena and Terrance Luxrose. Though her parents were wealthy enough for Ava to live a comfortable life with her dolls and her music boxes, she still craved more.

When she looked out of her clear window, she dreamed of dancing for all to see, bringing in sparkling, shining joy from her audience that could not quite be brought from anything else, dancing just like the dolls in her music boxes, the ones she wound up so that she would feel like she was part of a bigger party, that she was alive.

Ava’s bedroom had pink walls and white lace curtains, every inch cluttered with dolls and music boxes. Her parents had called her a hoarder, told her that she collected too much, but she liked to have girly, sweet things in her room, as it made her feel like she was a loved and cherished doll, passed down from generation to generation.

It softened the blow of not being allowed to go to her mother’s dance school solely because she was a witch. Her pink hair gave it straight away, for only witches had colorful hair, and even though her pink hair was a representation of her bubbly, dainty personality, it didn’t matter to Mom, who saw Ava as someone who’d switch to violent uses of her powers, and thus, she didn’t want to put herself or her dancers “in danger”.

It wasn’t like Ava had asked to be a witch, but mother didn’t want her to come and father didn’t want Ava to get in trouble with mother, so she had resigned to getting dancing lessons from father, at home.

Even though deep down, she wanted to see the magic of the world that awaited her, she wanted to find her true love, who would hold her close and dance along with her throughout the threads of the universe. It was what all the girls in the stories did, after all.

Finding love wasn’t as important to her as going out to the real world one day, but it certainly would have been nice to know that someone wanted to be by her side.

Oh well. Ava supposed she had to be happy and grateful with what she had, as being upset wouldn’t do her any good, nor would it change anything.

………………………………………………………….

It was just another day at the dance room with renaissance-era paintings on the walls and on the ceiling, another day at the dance room with her father, but…Ava didn’t quite feel like anything was the same. She loved dancing, for she like she could float up to places that was bigger than her imagined, but on that day, in that moment, Ava felt more immensely lonely than usual, like there would be no hope for things to get better, but that was impossible, because surely, she’d be able to get out of her house when she was an adult, right?

“Dad, it’s nice that you do this for me, but it’s still not fair that mother won’t let me go to her dance school. She’s thinking of the worst about me, she doesn’t actually know anything about my magic. Doesn’t that make you upset too?” Ava asked, for she could not hold it in any longer and really, she couldn’t understand why father didn’t stand up for her when she tried talking to mother.

Neither of Ava’s parents were witches, but Dad said that his parents were witches and that she could have possibly inherited it from them, which brought some relief to know that she wasn’t the only witch in her family, but she wished that she could have met him, that she wasn’t kept away in her house, that-

“Of course it makes me upset. You deserve to be out of the house and experiencing all of the woeful and wonderful things that the world has to offer, but you know, people tend to think of the most unsavory outcomes, as it is in human nature to dread, and with you, Mom dreads anything bad happening that involves you. So this is our compromise.” Dad said with a smile that Ava guessed was supposed to be reassuring.

But she could feel her anger bubble up inside of her, threatening to break through her skin, so she had to push deep inside of herself and say:

“It’s still not fair! Sure, I have magic, but all I use it for is growing flowers and making my music boxes play! What makes her think I’ll go violent? She knows that I wouldn’t do that!”

Dad sighed and ran a hand through his brown hair, his eyebrows creased as though he were trying to come up with a good enough explanation for her to hear, but she didn’t want to hear anymore empty stories of fake freedom. He said that he loved her, yes, but she wanted to believe it more, but what were a few words over action?

“Sometimes, the people closest to you don’t know you at all. Mom does this because she is scared of witches and I’ve tried to tell her before that she didn’t need to fear my parents and that she doesn’t need to fear you. She’ll tolerate them, for the most part, but her fear makes her act angry and do terrible things like keep you in the house. She’s a good person, deep down, I just…I just have to keep trying to get her to see things my way. You’ll get out into the world, I just…I have to keep trying.” Father said, his eyes downcast, his tone unsure.

That was what he always said to her, ever since it was little, and nothing changed. What did he see in Mom? She was miserable and cruel, not a drop of kindness in her. Was Ava supposed to feel bad that Mom was scared of her? She should have known that her own daughter wouldn’t hurt her, that she only wanted to do the things that other girls her age were doing, that she only wanted more opportunities.

And because Dad wasn’t making her feel any better, she stormed out of the dance room, hoping that Mom was home.

…………………………………………………………

Ava had walked throughout the many halls of the mansion, searching for any sign of mother, because maybe, if Ava spoke to her again, really let Mom understand where she was coming from, because maybe father was right and Ava just needed to talk to her.

She didn’t want anything to escalate with Mom, for although Ava was mad, she’d be absolutely devastated if she took her rage any further, for the idea of hurting anyone, even her mother, unsettled her deeply, because hurting people was wrong and never the way to go, no matter how much Ava wanted to teach her a lesson, no matter-

There she was. Mom, opening the front door and stepping into the sitting room, her gray hair tied up in a bun, dusting off her black dress, her wrinkles on her pale skin making her look like a dried out piece of paper.

Nobody would know that Mom was a dancer at first glance, for she herself looked more like the stereotypical witch than somebody who danced to her own rhythm, but Mom was once young and starving for the world, like Ava, so maybe, all Ava had to do was connect with mother on that level, then, there would be an understanding between them and no longer would Ava feel the ugliness of hatred that itched at the edges of positivity, that threatened to burn out of her at the wrong second.

“Hello, Mom! I hope that you had fun at your dancing lessons! I’m sure that you do, for nothing else matters once you dance, you’re free to do as you please. You might have even performed at the theater in your dancing school. I think that you did and if so, then that’s wonderful! If not, then I still think that what you do is wonderful, because I want to do it and I’ve been wanting to dance for a long time! I know that I’m a witch, but you don’t need to be afraid! There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ve been dancing on my own and practicing with Dad and what would really make me happy is if you let me take dancing lessons at your school and maybe even dance at your theater! I could make new friends, too. Wouldn’t that be amazing? I think so!” Ava beamed.

But as soon as Ava was done speaking, she wondered if she had sounded a little too happy for Mom’s liking, if she was being too nice, because Mom had frowned a bit and then she said:

“And you want to dance? Out there? For everyone to see you?”

A small speck of irritation began to bloom inside of Ava. She wanted people other than her parents to see her, she wanted others to know of her existence, she wanted to show that she could really dance.

“Yes, mother. I want to dance at your school. For everyone to see me. Isn’t that the point of your dance school? For students to be seen? I know that you haven’t been teaching me, but I’ve been learning with Dad, and I want to dance at the local theater. Won’t you let me go?” Ava asked, hoping that maybe mentioning that she wasn’t just practicing by herself, where she could spiral so far into her own thoughts that it went up into uncontrolled fury.

“I don’t intend for a witch to perform at my theater.” Mom-no, Mom was far too endearing, mother, just like Ava had called her, was a better word-said, her brown eyes narrowing at Ava.

To which Ava had yelled out:

“It’s not my fault that I’m a witch! Some people are born witches, some aren’t. You always act like I’m to blame for being born! You never let me dance with the others! I never asked to be a witch!”

How many times did she have to tell mother that she never wanted to be a witch, that she didn’t wish for it to happen, for her to understand? Being a witch wasn’t that big of a deal or even bad, mother just made it out to be. Why was she so resistant to understanding things from Ava’s point of view? Did she fear witches that much? Did she hate them? No, that couldn’t be it. Mother wouldn’t go so far as to hate witches, right? Wasn’t that a bit extreme?

But then, with the way that mother was looking at her, as though she had deserved to rot into the Earth, as though she brought mother nothing but pain, it…it brought back the suppressed thoughts of tearing mother to bloody bits on the ground, to stomping out the negativity completely, because although it would be brutal, wasn’t it deserved? Would it be the only way that Ava would truly be free? Would Dad start to understand her better if she killed mother, got rid of the parasite completely?

For the first time in her life, Ava’s hands shook with the intensity of her magic that came out in forms of golden smoke, with the intention to kill mother blazing brightly in her mind.

Yet when it got close enough to mother, it didn’t go to her body, but instead, went to something that she held in her hand, something that Ava didn’t notice before, something that felt like it was siphoning away all of her powers, draining her…

“This knife takes away your magic. You can’t kill me, Ava. Your father is gone, and now you’ll be gone. I’m finally going to get rid of the witch.” Mom sneered, holding a shining silver knife in her hand that appeared to be taking in Ava’s magic.

But how could she obtain a knife that had such power? And what did she mean by her father being “gone”? What did…what…

Ava could feel herself falling…slipping away from reality…everything was growing blurry…and then…and then…

She couldn’t see or do a single thing.

…………………………………………………………

All around her was nothing but darkness, stretching for miles and miles. Ava couldn’t feel a floor underneath her, but somehow, she was being held up.

“I know that it hurts to be dead, but you can still kill your Mom…with my help, of course.” A woman’s hissing, twisting voice said.

Ava got up from the floor that she could not see and watched as a white blur in the distance began to slowly form into a woman, a pale woman in a black dress, her straight black hair cascading around her gaunt face, her long, curling black claws twitching as though she were eager to hold someone or something.

“You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are, Ava. I make sure to watch over anyone who feels lost in this world, for I am Helena Blackrose, a demon who is capable of ending worthless, pathetic lives and I am willing to share that power with you, if you will only let me in.” Helena said, her lips contorting into a sharp-toothed smile.

Ava stepped back a bit, fear crawling up in her as she began to properly register her surroundings. Demons were never good and if there was a demon coming to her, then that meant that Ava was trapped.

She had to get out.

“Why the hesitation? Would this change your mind?” Helena asked, stepping to the side and gesturing her claws out towards a blur in the darkness, a blur that began to morph into what looked to be her parents’ bedroom, except Dad lay on the bed, blood pooling on the sheets around him.

“Your mansion has many, many halls. While you were looking for your Mom, she had made it to the bedroom, where your Dad had gone out to after dancing lessons and so, she stabbed him to death with the knife. This knife, while good at stealing magic, is also good at silencing screams. Your Mom was so wracked with fear of witches that she couldn’t take your Dad loving you, so she killed him, then killed you. Isn’t that absolutely awful? Don’t you want to make her suffer? Don’t-“

“How could my Mom get a knife like that? I know she’s scared of witches, but isn’t this too far? Shouldn’t there be more to the story? Isn’t-“

“What? What’s with all the worry? You WANTED to kill her before, didn’t you? Don’t back out now! Don’t you see what she did to your Dad? Don’t you want to make her pay? Don’t you-“

“How do I know that I can trust you?” Ava asked, snapping her head towards Helena. Though she was starting to think that Mom deserved to suffer, she felt that sense of unease inside of her, that one wrong move could get her in trouble that she couldn’t get out of.

“Because I’m going to make you invincible, indestructible.” Helena grinned.

Before Ava could say a word, she could feel her spine bend over and then, her bones rearranged themselves within her skin, her eyes burned in their eye sockets and her teeth felt like they were pressing deep, deep, deep into her tongue.

“You don’t look much different than you did as a human, you only have red eyes, but you are much stronger and your teeth can tear through anything. Come now and I will take you to your Mom.” Helena said, her voice in a hissing, clock-ticking to finality quality and yet soft and feather-like all the same.

True, Ava felt that she didn’t look different at all, but she could also feel something greater than herself coursing throughout her bones, like nothing could stop her, nothing could keep her down and really, did it matter where Mom got the knife from? No, what mattered was that Mom wanted to kill her and Dad and people like her didn’t learn from mere words, they only learned from action.

So, Ava took Helena’s claw and let the demon lead her to revenge.

…………………………………………………………

After a while, Ava found herself in her parents’ bedroom, watching as Mom wiped her knife clean with a cloth. Upon closer inspection, Ava could see faint pinkish-reddish spots on the knife, a sign of dried-up blood.

The dried-up blood of her Dad, the only one who cared to give her dancing lessons, to treat her like a person, to not be frightened of her.

Ava then decided to show Mom the opportunity she was passing up with not letting her go to dance school and crept out of the shadows, twisting and turning her body like a ghost, unbound by rules, free to be, and once she was close, she sliced through Mom’s body with claws that shot out of her fingers, relishing in the shocked screams and licking the blood that splattered on her fingers, for Mom deserved it all, she deserved to suffer and-

Ava felt herself being lifted high, high up the ground, then everything had abruptly gone dark, just like before. She couldn’t feel anything around her but air and then…and then…

She was in a room covered with dust, sitting behind an overturned, molding white couch, the walls and floors all gray, all color lost.

She frowned as she got up, then walked up to the door, trying to turn the knob, but found that no matter what she did, it stayed firmly shut. So, Ava tried to claw at the door with her hands, but yielded only scratches.

Her head and heart swam with confusion spiked with terror. Where was she? What had happened? What-

“You‘ve done your job, now you’re going to stay in my house. Thank you for letting me help you, now you’re going to help me. I’ll be needing your energy, so you’re going to stay here. Don’t worry, there are others here too, you will meet them soon! Just stay calm and I will let you out when you please!” Helena’s voice rang throughout the room earnestly, yet held a mocking laugh to it.

But could it really be true? Did Helena lock her away to take Ava’s energy? Would she ever be free? What if she was trapped forever? What if-

Ava kept clawing and clawing at the door, going faster and faster with every second, hoping that it’d break away just like how Mom crumbled, but nothing happened. She then ran over to the single window with a rock she found on the ground and threw it at the window, smiling as it cracked, then she ran over to jump out of it, but-

The window had seamlessly stitched itself back together, as if nothing had broken it at all. Her light brown hands tried to lift it up, yet it stayed put, her arms feeling all strained and strung-up with the effort of trying to lift the window. Down below, Ava could see dried-up grass, with patches of dirt taking up most of it. The fall looked like a long way down and Ava suspected that from where she was viewing it, she was on the third floor.

The house must have been more than a house. Perhaps it was a mansion or a palace, a perfect fortress to keep her locked away.

Ava slunk away from the window, feeling just like a doll kept up on a high shelf, in a perfect place to be viewed and preened after, yet unable to run, unable to go anywhere, see anyone, or do anything.

Who was she to think that Helena would help her? At least her first cage had pleasant things to look at.

But in her new prison, there were no dolls and no music boxes, nothing to distract her from the fact that she could never, ever get out.

It seemed to Ava that she was at the mercy of Helena.