Myrefall is run by the Nightingale family, a clan of people who often keep to themselves. They are filthy rich and often put money into various town functions, and though their morals seem to be a bit confused (donating to questionable organizations), they don't bother people directly. At least, that's how they appear to people from the outside.
Really, they're a family of vampires, and their maid is trapped under their fangs for fear of her life. They are funding various organizations to eradicate humanity, and slowly but surely they are preparing for a vampire uprising. They've been collecting data, samples, anything that can get them hints on who next to turn and who next to delete from everyone's memory.
People have started catching on, but those who speak against the family tend to go missing. Most rebels are silent in the town, and their underground messages are encrypted. They have a plan to kill this family and hopefully save Myrefall from vampires entirely. They're just waiting for the right moment, the proper opportunity.
Mags is part of the resistance. They were born into it, and they've been hatching this plan for as long as they can remember. There was never time for a childhood while they were plotting the demise of their vampiric dictators. While the vampires haven't hurt anyone yet, they know there's no time to waste. Being just moments too slow could mean the end of humanity.
Mags is tasked with staking out, and as they approach the Nightingale mansion, they notice someone. A human? They look so unhappy, yet so peaceful, poetic, beautiful. they are filled with an impulsive urge to find out more, to save this person. But, living under their roof, they must be a Nightingale ally... right? Or, Mags thinks, they could be the final push to their years-old plan.
Throughout the ages, the same stories have been told by humans, their lessons repeating. One of the common stories being of a wolf in sheep's clothing, and the poor victims who fall under the false sense of security the wolf provided. The thing was, in those stories, the wolf didn't feel guilt. It didn't feel regret, or empathy, or any type of emotions other than its own feeling of greed and desire. It was, no matter what shape the wolf took, a monster at its core. But this wolf, she had emotions. She felt regret and guilt, she felt the shame of her actions, and it showed in the melancholic expression she wore. The fact of the matter was, however, that she was still the wolf, and the poor people of the town were her victims. Even those who cried 'wolf', calling out the true identity of the family that housed her, were victims. In fact, they ended up worse off than those who stayed blissfully ignorant.
With a sigh, Ophelia made her way to her chambers, on the second floor of the Nightingale manor. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to just return there and never leave again, especially after her most recent hunt. The Nightingales had been wanting a very specific young woman by the name of Veronica. It had taken her several weeks to get Veronica to trust her enough to follow her into the woods, and by that point she had been building an actual friendship with the girl- something nonexistent in the manor. That being said, when she had led Veronica to the manor's drawing room, and watched vermilion eyes surround Veronica while she closed and locked the door, it took everything she had not to turn around. Not to open that door back up, and help Veronica escape, even at the risk of her own life. Even now she could hear the poor girl's wails, though she knew they were no more than a memory at this point, a banshee haunting her mind. " Just ignore it. They are just pawns on the chessboard." she muttered to herself, knowing it was a lie. It was simply what the Nightingales had told her to cope. She figured they had just assumed by this age she would've grown numb to it all, and instead feel she was helping out with some bigger, better, even. After all, she had been doing this for as long as she could remember. However, this was no time to be pondering on her actions, or her situation. Right now, she just needed to take her mind off of things, maybe read a book or two- the manor's residence were at least kind enough to grant her some requests, within reason.
At the thought of books, the slightest of glimmers appeared in her eyes. She had recently gotten a new one- The Chronicles of Narnia, she believed it was called. She hadn't gotten too far into it yet, but she had read enough to wish she could simply walk through a wardrobe and end up in a completely new world.
With that thought she curled up in the alcove of her room's bay window, a pillow, blanket, and book in hand, gazing up at the stars. " Even Narnia seems much better than here."