Prequel
Long before the small Virginia town, Wescott had paved roads and coffee shops, it is surrounded by a deep forest; alive with ancient magic and restless paranormal beings. The heart of that forest lived a ruthless pack of werewolves, led by their alpha lycan. For three centuries, the forest grove at the outskirts of Wescott had been silent, rumored to be haunted by the modern-day locals. The air was thick with the old magic of a bitter witch, that tasted like rust and anger.
The Curse
Virginia 1725
Three hundred years ago, Kael MacTavish stood in that same forest rejecting a power-hungry witch that stalked him and his pack from their birthplace, Scotland. Isolde talked of sweet nothings and promises of shared power, ruling their new home together. She didn’t love Kael but the power he could give as a true highland alpha lycanthrope. He saw through her honey promises and laughed in her face, laughed at her audacity to think she could be his mate and Luna. And for this, she placed a curse on him and everyone in his pack, the babies, children, teenagers, adults, and even the elders.
“You will be locked in time,” She hissed, her voice fueled by anger and rejection. “I curse you and all of your blood. Until your beast finds its calming other half, and if she does not choose you… Then you and your mutts will rot in silence. Be forgotten in time.”
…
Kael wasn’t scared when the curse started, he stood tall and proud as the alpha of his pack. Rigid and unblinking, the veins in his body blackened from the magic almost appearing as tattoos. He let out one last howl before the ancient magic froze him and turned him into stone.
The pack started to freeze in the forest, some mid-hunt, some mid-shift with their arms curled into the fur, frozen cracked bones stuck between their human and wolf forms. A child frozen against a tree, two elders frozen in a prayer stance in front of the pack’s moon goddess altar. They were all preserved where they stood, trapped for 300 years with their home growing around them. The forest landscape grew around them, moss, vines, and trees began to cover them as the years passed. A local legend slowly began to form around them claiming of deformed beasts haunting the thick woods.
Modern Day: Wescott Virginia
The world beyond the trees blossomed, with the advances made in human society from 1725 to 2025. The land near the frozen pack’s territory became Wescott, a small town filled with local small businesses, construction jobs, and Friday night football games.
The curse was still active but weakened as the centuries went by.
