The Witch's Manuscript

The clock struck midnight, casting an eerie glow across Laura's bedroom. She glanced at the watch on her wrist, the small screen glowing in the darkness of her room. It was time. Slowly, she pulled the blanket off her body, each movement deliberate, every sound carefully controlled. The weight of her mission hung heavy in her chest, her heart thudding in rhythm with the ticking clock on the wall. She stepped off the bed, her feet sinking into the plush rug beneath her, and cautiously checked the time once more. The soft moonlight spilling through the large windows illuminated the rich, regal textures of her bedroom.

The Rivera mansion, nestled deep in the woodlands, exuded an air of both luxury and secrecy. Laura's room was no exception. The expansive space was adorned with dark mahogany furniture, intricate tapestries, and a grand canopy bed with velvet curtains that swayed lightly in the cool night air. Large windows framed by thick drapes offered a view of the moonlit forest outside, casting elongated shadows across the room. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals catching the faint light, refracting it like stars. This was her domain, but tonight, her thoughts were far from the comfort of her surroundings.

Earlier that day, as Laura returned from school, she had overheard something that had set her mind racing. She had barely noticed the weight of her backpack as she tossed it carelessly onto her bed. Heading downstairs for lunch, her mind drifted to the usual mundanities of the day—classes, friends, and the quiet life her mother insisted she lead. But as she grabbed a sandwich and made her way to the kitchen table, her attention snapped into focus. From the adjacent room, she heard the low murmur of voices—her mother, Elaine, and Moxie, the family's caretaker and trusted confidant.

She had paused, listening.

"I can't read all those manuscripts, Moxie. Just highlight the important parts and leave them on my desk," her mother had said, the impatience in her voice clear.

Moxie's low, gruff reply had followed, "Yes, Madam Elaine. I'll leave the summarized notes for you."

Laura had stayed still, her sandwich forgotten in her hand, her mind beginning to spin. Manuscripts? Important parts? What were they hiding? The curiosity was too much to resist. She knew this was something she needed to uncover.

Now, under the cover of night, Laura slipped out of her bedroom, her steps as silent as a shadow. She moved through the grand corridors of the mansion, her fingers lightly brushing the cool wooden stool she passed as she made her way through the grand hallway. The Rivera mansion was a labyrinth of history, each room decorated with relics of their lineage. Dark oak floors creaked faintly beneath her light steps, and the dim glow from the sconces on the walls cast elongated shadows, creating a hauntingly beautiful atmosphere.

Her destination loomed ahead—her mother's study. The large wooden door stood at the end of the hallway, framed by the intricate molding and regal portraits of her ancestors. She approached, her heart racing, her hand reaching for the doorknob. To her surprise, it turned easily. The door was unlocked.

Laura glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see someone watching her, but the hall was empty. She slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind her. The study was bathed in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the large bay windows. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, and the scent of old parchment filled the air, mingling with the faintest hint of her mother's perfume. A grand desk sat in the center of the room, cluttered with papers and books, but one item stood out—a manila envelope with the words The Witch's Manuscript boldly scrawled across its surface.

Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up the envelope and slid the papers from within. They were neatly stapled, with some sections highlighted in fluorescent yellow. She quickly scanned the pages, her eyes locking onto the phrases Moxie had marked for her mother's review.

"King Fergus the First's secret affair with the great sorceress Medb."

Another passage caught her eye: "Order of all magic wielders' execution acted as the final push for Medb's attack on the king."

Laura's breath caught in her throat. Werewolves... witches... wars between them? This was more than she had ever imagined. Her mother had always kept her in the dark, and now, with each word she read, a thousand questions flooded her mind. Who was this Medb? Why did the king have her executed, and how was any of this connected to the existence of werewolves?

Her thoughts spiraled as she skimmed through the manuscript. Suddenly, the soft thud of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Her pulse quickened, panic seizing her as she hurriedly slid the papers back into the envelope and shoved it onto the desk. She ducked under the heavy oak table, her body tense, barely breathing.

The door creaked open, and Laura's heart nearly stopped.

Moxie stepped in, humming quietly to himself, his large frame casting a shadow over the room. He muttered something about being forgetful, "I swear, Elaine will have my head for leaving the study unlocked."

He flipped the light switch, flooding the room with light, and began to walk around, checking the bookshelves and the desk. Laura held her breath, the pounding of her heart deafening in her ears. She watched as his boots moved dangerously close to the table where she hid.

Moxie's voice broke the silence again. "I swear I shut that door…" His suspicion seemed to grow as he paused by the desk, his hand grazing the envelope Laura had just touched. She could see the leather of his boots just inches away from her hiding place. She bit her lip, praying he wouldn't look under the table.

After what felt like an eternity, Moxie sighed. "Must've been the wind." He turned and moved toward the door, locking it behind him as he left.

The sound of the lock clicking shut was like a thunderclap in the silence.

Laura exhaled shakily, her body trembling as she slowly crawled out from under the desk. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. She glanced at the locked door, realizing with a sinking feeling that while she had managed to escape Moxie's detection, she was now trapped.

Her breathing quickened as panic started to set in. She was locked inside her mother's study, and if anyone found her in here, the consequences could be dire. She clenched her fists, trying to calm herself, searching desperately for a way out.