Slowly, the camera sets itself upon a lone elf with pointy ears and seaweed green eyes, as it strolls down a narrow concrete path while being ignored and dismissed by the people rushing in opposite directions. Along the street, contains a brightly-lit Chinese Restaurant with only a small amount of workers inside it, along with a scruffy distant shop selling precious antiques all the way from Moldova. An elder woman stood in front of the antique store whilst wearing a long moth-eaten black hat that drooped over her forehead as she bowed toward the direction of the elf. When she beamed at the elf, her teeth were yellow and cracked. He came to a halt before a tall and shabby hotel with flicking golden lights bearing the words:

As the elf presses his hand to the half-unhinged wooden door and it flings open, a young boy behind the registration hums in agreement as a hunchbacked wizard heads for the staircase. They both seemed to not of noticed the loud bang of the door, as the boy carried to chew on gum and flick through a magazine about the latest news on Hollywood stars. Reluctantly, the elf carried its bony legs towards a darkly lit staircase and up to Floor 4. Several times did he think he saw somebody staring at him from a doorway or feel like somebody was walking behind him, eyeing his every move. On Floor 4, it appeared to be the most dirty and contained multiple spots of black mold spreading on the walls and ceiling. The floor hadn't been cleaned for at least a couple of years as it showed several spots of dirt or dried up blood. He finally came to a halt outside 'Room 46' which laid somewhere directly in the middle of the hallway. Room 48, to the right, had a loud clash every couple of seconds and Room 46 (to the left) played a harmonic song that made the elf feel very drowsy. With one knock, the door swung open a few inches only to be stopped by a metal latch. A daring grey eye was seen from the small gap.

Voice: What is it?

Unsurprisingly, the voice had a sharp tone to it with a very serious and matter-of-factly accent and the black hair seemed to be greasy and scruffy. Although, the thing in front of the elf was not a man or showed any sign of a person. He had long jet black fur where there should've been skin and the roots of hair were a menacing silver. Two large fangs poked out from his daring mouth and his eyes showed how hungry he was at this very moment. As soon as the beast noticed who the elf was, he unlatched the metal latch separating the two and lunged the door backwards. Instead of fighting, they hugged. The camera moved slowly around to manifest who the elf was... Pyrder Croaxelle. Awkwardly, the hug didn't last very long as the giant being started to flex its huge muscles about the size of Pyrder's head, while slowly leading him to a brown saggy couch. When the elf sat on the couch, a cloud of dust enveloped around his head and swarmed him like an immortal enemy. Disgustingly, the foul smells of under-cooked beef and raw chicken seemed to overwhelm Pyrder as he tried not to attempt to clasp his nostrils tight together. The hairy beast took no notice and wasn't sat directly in front of the miniature elf, but was rather pouring compressed raw meat juice into a tiny glass whilst galloping it down within one swallow and not seeming grossed out. Not long after, another small knock on the door signified another person, or... beast. Slowly, the beast growled towards Pyrder and with large, heavy footsteps made its way toward the door once again. A tall man with red beaming eyes stepped forward into the room, making Pyrder leap from the couch and once again enforcing the dust to be thrown up around him. The light casted from the outside illuminated the person standing in the doorway to be; Llama MacCarones.

Llama MacCarones: Why do you have this foul creature here?

Pyrder: I'm not any particular foul creature... why is "Dark Hammer" here?

Llama and Pyrder both glanced quickly at the beast, but before he could speak, rounded onto each other again.

Llama MacCarones: I like to be addressed by my real name. Dark Hammer was just made from a filthy tale created by half-magicals and half-breeds.

Llama picked up a small picture frame of a young woman. She had the exact same piercingly grey eyes as the beast, but appeared more humanly. Her lips were curled up into a small smile.

Llama MacCarones: Eilyn Seymour... why do you keep possessions of those gone... Alastair?

Alastair Seymour: Because those who are gone deserve to be respected for their efforts and memories when they were alive.

Alastair's big heavy hand reaches and snatches the picture out of Llama's cold hands and places it delicately onto the side of a glass table. Next to it and perched on top, stood a vase of dead and crispy brown flowers. The atmosphere between the three seemed very intense until at last Alastair's grizzly voice spoke:

Alastair Seymour: Two different sides and yet you both seem more calm than the other. What can I say-

Llama MacCarones: We are not different sides, we are merely two different beings. One clearly more dominant than the other.

Pyrder: Do you even hear yourself?... we elves are not recessive to humans. We have our rights from The Wizarding Deceleration of 1602. Which was signed after seventy-two bloody wars between elven lands and human lands!

With a wave of Pyrder's hand, Llama along with his long, silky black robes is flung backwards against a wall. Due to the impact of Llama and the hotel wall, it appeared that as much dust was flung off the wall as was flung out of the couch. It was enough to make a dust creature of itself. However, along with the dust leaving its home, there also appeared to be a tiny crack in the mustard yellow wallpaper which in return made Alastair wince and groan. Delicately, Llama stood up with the expression of almost fury across his face. Whilst trying not to crack the creaky wooden floorboard or the yellow wallpaper any further, jets of blue light are sent from his silver walking stick at Pyrder. In the matter of a second, Pyrder lifts his right hand and blocks the light from hitting his rigid body with a powerful green shield. The blue light merely bounces off into a mystical mist. But, Llama doesn't give up as he sends three or four more jets rushing in the elves direction. Pyrder finally lets go of the shield and sends a purple flame at Llama as it makes a loud, squeaky noise. With one powerful move, the flame is thrown from Llama and headed towards the glass table. As it collides, the glass smashes and the picture frame gains a crack. However, the dead flowers clearly untouched, turn into a matter of dust on the floorboard.

Alastair Seymour: NO!

Alastair sends two bright green jets at Pyrder and Llama at once. Pyrder misses it by screaming and dissipating as Llama ducks. Alastair picks up the frame while taking the safe, untouched and unscathed picture out of the deserting frame. He merrily looks over at Llama and slightly nods before the introduction song and credits roll.

a broken record starts to play

Five cloaked people walk through a forest with tree and plant closeups. 'Sxphie' appears in between the trees and plants. A minotaur eats a man while 'Kieghan' appears in the minotaur's eyes and shortly after there appears to be multiple broken pictures with blood over them containing dolls, demons, the photo of the Class of 1965, Judy and Llama and lastly is Great-McDonald with black eyes. 'Kalani & Kyphi' appear as a woman holds up a voodoo doll with her lips sealed by the thread. 'Cat & Hunter' appear as women stand and dance around a fire of burning witches and wizards, 'Smxthie & Aloro' appear as a man pours blood over him while another goes into a bath filled with blood. 'Rachel & Alwaysmunching' appear as the woman starts to stab the voodoo doll and the blood on the picture frames sucks back up and into the pictures with the cracks ceiling, finally 'Llamapocalypse & Nikoliko' appear as the five cloaked people run away from the man eating Minotaur and the forest starts to burn before one of the cloaked people shushes the screen into:

Nervously, Sophie walks down a dark corridor, pacing herself steadily. There appear to be no windows and no doors. Just a long, empty and dark room. A room that speaks to itself and makes men go crazy. As she turns with great speed to walk down the opposite end of the room again, her hand clutches hold of her warm neck as she sees Cat Montreddins lying down upon a bed of flowers. The beauty of the scene reminds Sophie of what she was thinking about as she turns once again, pacing. This time, across from her lies the spread-eagle'd body of Chelsea Williams. Although, Sophie does not turn around as she bracingy takes a heavy step forward. Chelsea's melting and zombified head lifts itself from the stone cold ground as her eyes now appear a piercing pure-white and her skin color is now a deafening grey. Her smile lets off a stink as powerful as the Plague.

Again, Sophie spins with great speed to see another corpse. Smithie Evans, as he lays perfectly still like a newborn babe in their mother's arms. His two warm hands are clutched together closely to his chest as the beautiful shades of pink, blue and white hydrangeas sit comfortably between his fingertips. Agreeably, his outfit matches the flowers as his tie is a warm blue and a pink flower crown rests in his hair as a daring white suit covers his body. She closes her eyes when she suddenly spins around for one last time. As her eyes open, it is not a dead body but rather Kyphi Krakze now in white clothing.

Kyphi Krakze: Come here.

Her voice echoes around the dark room with the sound hitting each corner and letting go. However, it is not transparent or a deep meaning that she is not a ghost nor an appagraph. She now appears more elder and almost dead with every wrinkle telling a new story without saying anything at all.

Kyphi Krakze: I need to tell you something.

Almost like magic, a chintz chair appears from thin air infront of her which is made of the finest animal fur. Lions, polar bears and wild rabbits. As Sophie rests her hair on the animal chair, it traps her with its warmness and homely feeling, unable to let her go even with the strongest force. Kyphi's whisper in her ear doesn't help the situation and rather springs her from the chair.

Kyphi Krakze with Jazzy South's voice: I'm dying. My time as the Angel of Death is over. You are warned as everyone around you will find their darkness. Don't allow them. Don't trust in tales of strangers. Wake up Sophie, wake up Kieghan breakfast is ready-

All of a sudden, Sophie is awakened by the rasping voice of Jazzy South as she taps on the door of Kieghan's bedroom. Kieghan lets out a slow moan to answer Jazzy's calls to go downstairs. Sophie looks around the room at all the precious collections Kieghan had been given over the years along with the patterns that make it all up. Beautiful designs of orange and purple make up the scandalous banners of The Golden Crows, the United States broomsticks team. On the banners are eleven very delicately drawn players that clearly play for the team. Other colors spring out in action with various shades of blues, pinks and yellows that make up all the posters for famous witches and wizards over the times. One of which is Sniffy Yellowbank raising his fist in the air and another of Leonardo the Lanky falling through a hole in the floor. Sophie carefully steps over a pile of self-shuffling playing cards and looked out of the window. The wonderful smells of pumpkin and sweet, breathable air fills her nostrils and removes the dream out of her mind. In the distance, Sophie could make out a rather tall, red-haired woman walking down a narrow dirt path. This was Ellie South, Kieghan's sister who was the bride-to-be. Although, this appeared to be the first time Sophie had seen Ellie since she was mostly locked away in her bedroom most of the time. She appeared to walk down the path in a very strict motion and carried the same freckles and green eyes that all the other South children had.

Kieghan South: I don't understand why everyone is so fussed about this wedding, my aunt Cleridence's only lasted three hours max.

Irritatingly, Kieghan stumbled off her bright bed and forced herself to wriggle open the door. Sophie followed in pursuit. Along the corridor leading downstairs stood other red-haired, freckled people in portraits hanging along the wall. It let off a smell that reminded Sophie of home. A safe environment. The wooden stairs led spirally to a small, cramped downstairs. This time, the decorations were completely different and the place looked very very, spacious. There were no longer anymore long tables or chairs to be seen and there rather appeared to be some areas with large spaces enough to hold an elephant. Along the many sights to see, there appeared to be a freshly-sewn rainbow rug and several small leather beanbags facing a blazing fireplace. In the kitchen, a broom was self-cleaning the dust from the floor and throwing it to the outside air through a small cat-flap. Pyrder the elf was nowhere to seen as many of the picture frames full of memories for the past twenty or so years were starting to gain dirty. Outside was a beautiful, large white circus tent encrusted with golden doves in the fabric.

Many elves with similar outfits matching to Pyrder waved their hands to make certain tables and chairs fly into the tent. Once inside, the elves enforced their magic as jars flew in mid air to fill the statues of golden eagles with wine or other liquids. The sky around them forced a beautiful sunshine and a surprisingly hot humid heat, although Sophie did wonder whether the humid weather was real or artificial. Rays of sunlight would slither through the small holes in the tent and grant warmth to some of the seats.

Sophie looked into a mirror within the corner of the room. Spots of dirt and dust could be easily detected around the old thing, but that was something Sophie was used to by now. Around it, was a golden passementerie that decorated tiny tigers, cats, dogs and many other types of animals. What was most significant was, in a house full of magic there were no magical beast on this particular mirror. Unusual. Sophie's dress was a light purple with a cream lining by the neck as well at the tips towards the end. It wasn't long sleeved and only extended out towards her elbows and knees. She had matching cream loafers along with a trusting silver necklace and bracelet. At the end of the necklace was a crystal moon. Her hair was tied into a neatly braided bun in which Sophie kept prodding at whilst Kieghan was already ready and had her hair in two neat braids. Clearly, she had given up on the idea of tying it up. Her dress was the same brand as Sophie's but was in a rather pale orange and her shoes were a neat white. All summer long this was the day they were most buzzed about and it rather frankly put their minds off of Llama MacCarones and Krakze House. Jazzy had called them down shortly before the wedding and when they descended from the top of the stairs, the bottom of the house was decorated completely differently.

Decorations filled the space and led all the way to the tent. Around the hut were hangings of white 'Aiden & Ellie' and within the tent laid hundreds of delicacies. All around the tent were circular tables with golden eagles spitting out wine to the surrounding goblets. Sitting on the high table was Aiden MacCarones' parents. They wore lavender clothing and heavily silver accessories. To the left of their table was a group of boys, predictably Aiden's friends from school and in the far corner was an elderly man and woman deep in conversation. For some very odd reason, their conversation seemed to attract Sophie's attention. She left Kieghan hanging around whilst gazing at the many empty plates as if waiting for something to pop. As she drew near, the two noticed her heavy footsteps and their heads departed.

Sophie McDonald: Hello...

Carefully, the woman stood up from her seat showing a great green crown above her head and a very ugly look across her face.

Woman: Merlin's beard... you must be Moriera's descendant? a McDonald I guess?

Sophie McDonald: Why, yes. But who is Moriera?

Woman: Why dear, Moriera was only the best witch of her time. Every descendant of hers are noticeable through their exact same posture and walk. Plus, you have her eyes. Of course, your great-grandmother was also a great witch. I expect great things from you.

At this, Sophie stood straight and attempted not to slouch.

Sophie McDonald: And you are...?

At this, the man gasped.

Man: My dear girl, you do not know who this woman is? Bless the Gods! She is only one of the most celebrated and notorious witch, Eloise Michigan. Not knowing her is an insult.

Eloise Michigan: Clear off Alfie, I only beat you at that title because you had to blow up Jayden Clearwater's pet pig. The whole congress was mad at you for weeks... Anyway, dear, what brought you to our attention? We were only discussing how to cure a Chinese Imp with the heart of a common sheep. You see, an Imp and a Dragon have very close relations and a sheeps heart is what brings them to health. Common knowledge, my dear.

Sophie McDonald: I was going to talk about... Llama MacCarones.

Sophie didn't actually know what she wanted to talk about. Eloise Michigan let go of Sophie's palms and Alfie whinced to the name.

Eloise Michigan: I suppose you have seen the papers, written by that nasty little girl. What was her name?

Alfie: Arabella Chalkwood.

Eloise Michigan: And to think she's my cousin... pathetic.

Eloise looked away for a moment to look at another group of newcomers to the wedding before re-looking upon Sophie.

Sophie McDonald: What did Arabella write?

Eloise Michigan: All sorts of stuff. After Llama went missing, of course she went to the MacCarones' most trusted friend; Fidelia Williams. She had to open her mouth and spill the beans about his siblings of course. Nasty little liar Arabella was and twisted her words infront of Fidelia's face! Quite a scandal...

Alfie: And then once she was finished with Fidelia, Arabella interviewed Llama's last living sibling.

Sophie McDonald: Llama has a sibling?

Eloise Michigan: Two... Ariana MacCarones and Adrian MacCarones. Ariana was a notorious witch but died tragically from a freakish explosion. Adrian blamed it on Llama and they never were on speakable terms ever again. Of course, Arabella had to make it look like Adrian attacked him. Nasty liar. She could've just left the poor boy alone. One hundred and seventy-eight he is... Are you sure you even knew Llama at all, poor girl?