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MidReal Story
Love for Spooky Things
Scenario:I'm an outcasted female main charater who always had a love for spooky things. I was strolling through the woods when I stumbled across a tall, dark-aura'd man who couldn't keep his eyes off of me.
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Elara Morgen
outcasted girl, alone in the world, pale with dark hair and piercing eyes, curious and resilient.
Lydia Bennett
Elara's only friend and confidante, supportive and understanding, petite with bright red hair and freckles, loyal and brave.
Thane Darkwood
darkaurad man from the woods, enigmatic and solitary figure, tall with sharp features and shadowy attire, brooding and secretive.
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was born in the dead of night, during a storm that shook the hospital windows and made the lights flicker.
I paused, my heart still pounding, but my curiosity refusing to be silenced. "If you truly know me, then you know why I’m afraid," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain.
My mother died giving birth to me, and my father was killed in a car accident on his way to see her.
He nodded slowly. "Fear is a powerful force, Elara. But so is destiny. You've always felt different for a reason."
I never knew them, but I like to think they loved me.
That they would have been good parents if they’d lived.
I took another step back, torn between the safety of familiarity and the allure of the unknown. "What if you're wrong? What if this is just another trick to make me feel more alone?"
Eryndor's expression grew serious, his voice gentle but firm. "The truth will set you free, but only if you're willing to embrace it."
I was placed in foster care until I was five years old, but no one wanted me for long.
A flash of lightning illuminated the night, casting eerie shadows around us. For a moment, I thought I saw something—an image of myself standing tall and strong beside Eryndor in a world filled with wonders.
They said I had too much darkness in me, that I scared them with my morbid curiosity and fascination with all things eerie.
"Time is running out," he said softly. "Your choice will shape your future."
So I spent most of my childhood alone, reading books about ghosts and monsters, watching horror movies, and wandering through cemeteries at night.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. Despite my fear, an undeniable part of me yearned for the answers only he could provide.
It had been a long night at the foster home.
Taking a deep breath, I made my decision. "Show me," I said quietly.
Eryndor extended his hand once more, a small smile playing on his lips as our fingers intertwined.
Rain lashed against the window, casting ghostly shadows on my bedroom wall.
"Welcome to your true beginning," he whispered.
My fingers curled around the edge of my blanket as I stared out into the darkness.
Together we stepped into the darkness, leaving behind the world that had never understood me, and ventured into one that promised so much more.
The sound of drops hitting the glass tapped out a stilted rhythm in time with the drumming of my heart.
I sighed heavily and rolled over, burying my face into my pillow as sleep tugged at me from all sides.
Without hesitation, I took Eryndor's hand and stepped forward.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
There was a blinding flash of light as we passed through the swirling vortex of colors, but instead of feeling disoriented or afraid, it enveloped me with warmth and peace—like slipping into a hot bath after being out in the cold for too long.
And then, just like that, we were through the portal and standing at the edge of a dark forest with trees so tall they almost seemed to touch the sky.
Rain pattered against the window as thunder growled in the distance.
I had no idea where we were or how we’d gotten there so quickly, but I didn’t care—I felt like I’d come home after a long trip away, and that this was where I was meant to be all along.
I huddled under the covers of my bed and wished for a friend who wouldn’t be afraid of me or think I was weird just because I liked dark things.
Eryndor squeezed my hand gently as he turned to face me once again, his eyes still glowing softly in the darkness.
Lydia Bennett was that friend, but it wasn’t like we got to hang out all the time.
"You see? This is your true home," he said softly. "A place far removed from the harshness of the world you know—and where you will finally be able to discover who you truly are."
She was nice to me at school, which already made her one of the best people I knew.
But she also shared some of my interests—she didn’t mind watching horror movies or reading spooky books with me—and she didn’t shy away from my eccentricities.
I stared at him in wonder, still trying to process everything that had happened up until that point.
Maybe she even thought they were cool?
"My parents…they were from here?"
Eryndor nodded solemnly, his voice soft but steady as he spoke. "Yes."
Lydia was one of the few people who could look past my dark hair, pale skin, and piercing grey eyes, to see that I was more than just an outcasted girl who no one wanted to be friends with.
"And you brought me back here because…?"
We were an odd pair, Lydia and I. She was small and petite, with bright red hair and freckles that spread across her nose and cheeks like a constellation of stars.
Eryndor’s eyes softened, and he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair away from my face.
I, on the other hand, stood a head taller than her, and my hair was as black as the night sky, which only seemed to make my skin look paler in contrast.
"Because it is time for you to come home, Elara. Time for you to claim your birthright and embrace your destiny."
But she’d been kind to me before anyone else had even tried to be, and for that, I would always consider her my best friend—even if we weren’t very close outside of school.
I closed my eyes and imagined telling Lydia about my day—about how some of the kids at school had called me a witch again—and how Mrs. Ellsworth had complained for the hundredth time about me being late to dinner because I’d lost track of time wandering around in the woods as if I didn't have anything better to do with my life than go on long walks by myself.
Before I could respond, I heard a voice calling out from behind me—a voice that was all too familiar.
"Elara! What are you doing? Who is this guy?"
I knew better than to think Lydia would understand what it was like to be an outcast or why losing myself among trees and animals felt more like home to me than any human ever could.
I turned around to see Lydia standing there, her hands on her hips and an angry scowl on her pretty face.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, Eryndor stepped forward and held up his hand in a placating gesture.
"I mean you no harm," he said calmly, his voice soft but unwavering. "I'm simply here to take Elara where she belongs—to a place where she will be safe and cherished."
Lydia frowned at him suspiciously, clearly not convinced by his words.
"What do you mean? Safe from what?"
Eryndor glanced back at me, as if silently asking for permission before speaking again.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but my senses were heightened. Every creak of the old house, every whisper of wind outside, felt like a presence creeping closer. Unable to shake the feeling, I decided to investigate.
I slipped out of bed and tiptoed downstairs, careful not to wake anyone. The front door creaked as I opened it, and a burst of cold air hit me. Stepping onto the porch, I scanned the tree line. Nothing moved.
Just as I was about to turn back, a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, cloaked silhouette with glowing eyes that pierced through the darkness. My heart raced, but instead of fear, an inexplicable curiosity stirred within me.
“Who’s there?” I called out softly.
The figure remained silent but extended a hand toward me. Against all rational thought, I felt an urge to take it—to discover what lay beyond my mundane existence.
I stepped forward, feeling the pull of destiny wrapped in mystery and shadows.
I’ll never forget her eyes when she looked up at me.
The fear and curiosity that swirled in their depths, the way they shimmered in the moonlight, reflecting a thousand hues of blue and grey.
I held out my hand, offering her a glimpse into a world she’d never known—the darkness that lurked beneath her reality and threatened to consume it whole.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves in the wind. "What do you want?"
My lips curved into a smile as I gazed down at her.
"I’m Eryndor," I said softly. "And I’ve come to show you who you truly are."
She frowned, her brow creasing in confusion.
"I don’t understand," she said.
"I know," I replied.
"But I promise that will change soon. All your questions will be answered, and you’ll see things you never even knew existed."
I reached out my hand to her once again, waiting to see if she would take it this time.
"And how do you know that? How can you promise me these things?"
Her voice was tinged with skepticism, but underneath it, I heard a note of longing—a desperate yearning for something more than what her life had offered so far.
And that was why she’d been drawn to me in the first place.
I was different from anyone she’d ever met before—taller, darker, with eyes that shimmered like emeralds in the night.
The darkness inside me called out to hers like a siren’s song—and even though she didn’t understand it yet or know what it meant—I could tell that some part of her recognized me as someone important…or at least significant in some way.
Because when you’re an outcast like Elara Morgen is—that’s what they call her—you spend your whole life searching for answers: Why am I like this?
Why don’t I fit in?
What’s wrong with me?
But I knew those weren’t really her questions—not deep down where they mattered most.
No, Elara’s true question was one that lay buried so deep within her heart that she hadn’t even allowed herself to acknowledge it yet: Why did I have to be born into this world?
And that was what I’d come to show her.
That there were other worlds out there—realms of magic and mystery where things weren’t always as they seemed—and that she was destined for something greater than what her life had been so far, locked away in an orphanage on the outskirts of town.
I could see the fear in her eyes—the way her hands trembled at her sides—but I also saw something else: A longing for answers and a desperate need to know more about herself and where she came from.
