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Rushmore

_Creststar_
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Synopsis
They say the Fates know everything. Well, they could be wrong this time. The supernatural community in downtown Rushmore is on the verge of a civil war. The cause: the drachmae, pieces of crystal powerful enough to conjure Saturn who's been imprisoned in Tartarus since he was deposed by the gods. Rumours have it that the witches are planning to raise him-against the gods' wishes of course-to eliminate the other creatures. The others aren't having it, and so hostility brews. Enter the poor fours in this sick game of cards. Aki is a girl who's had absolutely nothing and has had to struggle to become the artist she is. Valeria is your typical rich girl whose connections have given her everything in life. Nyle is a promising attorney who hopes to take on the existing judiciary. Joey just got out of jail where he's spent a part of his adult life. When a weekend rendezvous at a vintage-themed bar leads to an unsettling turn of events, the four discover shades of themselves previously unknown to them, as well as a world of magic wielders, shape-shifting wolves, undead bloodsuckers and historic gods; all of who think that supernatural creatures can stop Saturn's release. The only problem is these guys are human. So, are the Fates wrong?
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Chapter 1 - PROLOGUS

December 17

°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

The night was peace till the break of dawn. The dawn heralded the horror that was to come.

This was perhaps one of the most balmy mornings the Province of Rushmore ever experienced during the winter. It was still snowing, but the flakes were not brutally heavy; they were soft, genial and visually pleasing. The sun itself was not the sweltering globe of light it usually was; its rays were tender and empyrean.

She stood at the very top of the penthouse which typically comprised a number of offices and quarters for the humans. Her eyes glimpsed the glorious expanse of buildings and huddled residences dotting the Rushmore landscape. It was just such a pity that this seemingly utopian environment would become pandemonium itself.

She turned to the little-eyed twenty-something year-old male standing behind her. Like her, he was dressed in white: a white shirt over a pair of rugged white jeans styled with an outer jacket of the same colour. She wore an abundantly flowing off-shoulder gown sprinkled with sequins and a floral wreath on her head.

"Are you ready?" She questioned the boy, whose reply was a feeble, helplessly muttered "yes". She smirked and turned to the pristine white rectangular slab she had erected as an altar right before her. "Let us begin," she motioned at him without turning to him.

She picked up in her right hand the animal on the altar, a squirming, spayed hare; and she picked up a dagger of shimmering steel. She shut her eyes. "Accipiter, O Saturnus rex deorum, sacrificum nostri pro gloriae tuae!" She chanted, slicing the thing's throat as blood spurted into an urn set before her. The boy recoiled in aversion as the hare's blood began to gush and consistently fill the urn, his eyes burning in remorse.

"Cassandra, please stop," he pleaded.

She turned to him. "You're not afraid of blood, are you, puer? You've seen far worse. You've inflicted far worse."

"This wasn't part of the plan!" He chided her. "I never wanted to help you with this."

"But you do want to keep your love interest alive," she stated as the snowflakes continued to glide down from the skies. "Or have you suddenly lost interest in the girl you've been screwing?"

His eyes fell to the floor. "How can I be sure we're not being watched?"

"I've cast a cloaking spell. We're invisible for now," she allayed part of his fears as she gutted the animal, cutting its entrails. "Pass me the pan."

He advanced towards the altar and passed her a pan of burning coal. The livid red truthfully sickened him, but his masculinity wouldn't let him admit that. His hands were gloved; that's how much he dreaded sustaining burns from the coal in question.

She flung the hare into nothingness, dropping the bloody dagger and picking up a chunk of coal in her hand, not wincing in the slightest. "Caelus, terra, audi supplicationem meam; veni, O Saturnus!" She let the coal slip into the urn and heard a hiss. She lifted her head and arms to the skies, her hands assuming a worshipful posture. "Momentum venit. The hour has come. Come, O Titan god; I call you forth! Delay no longer!"

At her words, the urn, crafted of pure metal, burst improbably into blisters. A flash of lightning emerged from the sky, followed by rumbling thunder. He was coming, and it was because of her. Nothing was more joyous to her than that.

"Cassandra, think about what you're doing. You're going to end up destroying the entire supernatural community and humans too. Why're you punishing them for something they had no part in?" His voice was audacious but somewhat shaky.

She whirled herself to face him. "Did the vampires think twice when they raided my perfectly defenseless Greek village two hundred years ago? Did they show mercy when they slaughtered my mother and butchered my father right before my eyes? No. That's because they didn't care." She exhaled. "Today, on the feast of the Saturnalia, when the ancient Romans honoured the Titan god; I'll use him to wipe out those disgusting vampires and their accursed race from this city."

A peal of thunder punctuated her statement as she conjured up a miniscule effigy of Saturn, placing it right on the altar and smearing the blood retained on the dagger onto it. She traced a line on its forehead with a powdery substance: the ground bones each of a witch, a werewolf and a vampire. Thunder pealed repetitively almost in tune with her actions.

"Give me the drachmae." The words weren't exclaimed, but he knew they formed an order. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a stuffed fabric tied with threads. He undid the knots and emptied the fabric on his palm, letting four shapely coins fall.

She received the coins from him and admired them. Theirs was a premium quality sterling silver, and on each coin was engraved a name. She pronounced them: Iuno, Vesta, Ceres, Neptunus. These were the divinities who had helped Jupiter detain Saturn long before, and they were going to help release him. Well, "help" was a word far-fetched; she was going to compel them.

"Give me your hand," she beckoned him.

"Wh—Why do you—"

"We're about to summon the powers of the gods. This requires physical strength, which you are by no means lacking, " she explained.

"No. I'm not going to help you—"

"I have that stupid witch you sleep with under my control. I also have your naive vampire friend wilting away in my sunlit attic. If you don't comply, they both won't be breathing by the time you get to them." Her threat was issued with a tone so serene yet so imperious that he felt his resistance shatter. She gripped his hand, placing the coins on the altar. "Per potentia Iunonis, Vestae, Cereris et Neptunii, per recurso in nominum eiuae, impero Saturnum, veni!"

The snowflakes themselves seemed to flutter as an earth-shattering whirlwind appeared from the sun's direction and the once beaming light was blackened, almost as if the goddess of night had placed her ominous veil over it. The whirlwind morphed into something of a vortex swirling furiously. Fire and lightning emanated from the phenomenon as the humans beneath began to shriek. What was once a snowy morning was now fervid and blazing hot as the black vortex moved right over the building. He could hear her cackle maniacally and let out a litany of curses against the Olympians as the darkness now extended over the city.

He shut his eyes. "Jupiter, I'm sorry I failed you."

And that was when the most monstrous, gigantic being appeared and let out a roar that rocked the earth right to its core.

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NB: the names above, "Iuno... Neptunus" are the Roman names of the Greek deities known as Hera, Hestia, Demeter and Poseidon respectively. Their Roman names are just used for effect.