In the dim, forgotten corners of history, a harrowing tale unfolds, a saga shrouded in darkness and sorrow. Mormo, a girl afflicted with deformities, endures the weight of her cursed reality. Her parents, ensnared by shame, subjected her to relentless torment within the confines of their home, nurturing a profound and bitter animosity within her soul…

In the beginning, her parents struggled to shield her from the world’s cruelty. Before long, Mormo bore the tears gifted by society’s scornful mockery and laughter. In a cruel twist of fate, her parents abandoned Mormo in distant mountain lands, leaving her alone to fend for herself in the biting cold. A meagre fire became her sole comfort in the isolation of her loneliness. Driven by hunger, instincts and survival, she honed her hunting skills, gradually distancing herself from innocence. Her hatred for her parents and the villagers grew darker and more unyielding with each passing day of solitude.

It was a particularly chilling and lonely day in her isolated cave when Mormo received an unexpected visitor. Empusa, a demon of deceit, appeared before her carrying a box that echoed the fabled tales of Pandora. Mormo eyed the mysterious box with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Empusa’s smile was as cold as the cave itself.

“A gift,” she said, her voice a serpent’s whisper.

“A vessel for your sorrows. Place your merciless sensations within, and I promise you liberty and happiness in return.”

Mormo hesitated. “Happiness?”

“Sealed with a time-woven crest,” Empusa assured her, the deceit in her eyes masked by a facade of sincerity. Empusa persuaded Mormo to imprison her inner demons in exchange for liberation.

Trusting the demon’s words, Mormo accepted the box and followed her instructions, unaware of Empusa’s treacherous game. As time passed, Mormo poured more and more inner darkness into the box. Her mind eased, and her spirit felt lighter.

One day, she decided to venture towards a nearby village, eager for the joy and acceptance Empusa had promised. She arrived at the settlement, oblivious to the lurking dangers and unaware of the trick Empusa had played on her. Fish was for sale in markets, blacksmiths forged steel, and children played with skipping ropes. As Mormo approached the village, everything became still, and the children’s laughter was first to stop. Their faces twisted into expressions of fear as they screamed at the sight of her ominous figure. The air grew thick with fright, chilling Mormo to her core.

“Vampire!”

“Witch!”

“Demon!”

The villagers shouted each word, a piercing dagger of rejection. The echoes of fear and cruelty danced along the narrow streets, their haunting melody weaving a tapestry of anguish along the cobbles. Seeking solace in acceptance, she unwittingly became the tragic protagonist in a tale laced with trickery. Driven by fear, the aggressors launched their assault upon her; Mormo was bound to a cross for seven torturous days; she hung there naked before the townsfolk, a spectacle of cruelty, the dark con of man for all to see in broad daylight. On the seventh day, they set her ablaze. As the flames leapt higher, the ghastly scent of burning flesh filled the air, and her agonised screams echoed through the mountains and beyond until, finally, they were silenced. Amidst the searing agony, Mormo’s spirit swore a solemn oath of vengeance.

As the years passed, the once vibrant village was enveloped in a dark cape of trepidation, suffusing the inhabitants with unyielding alarm. Hatred drove Mormo to lure the children, one by one, away from the safety of their parents and community into a desolate plain, where they met their ends.

Mormo’s gruesome hunts left behind a grisly trail of bodies, each one a testament to her insatiable thirst for revenge. The town, spellbound by fear, was eventually abandoned. Desolation claimed the once-thriving village.

Years later, the Knights Templar arrived to investigate the haunted ruins. Whispers of Mormo’s tale reached Thales, a wise man, who warned them of the mythological box and its potential to end her reign.

“Find the box,” Thales urged the Knights Templar.

“It may contain the key to her defeat.”

The Templars embarked on a perilous quest, driven by the hope of salvation. Their adventure brought them to discover a cave; the brotherhood stood ready to confront all lurking menace.

“Be cautious,” the resonating final message from Thales.

Several brave men stepped forward. Undeterred by the threats beyond the darkness, shields rose vigilantly, ready to confront their fears. Their caution was justified. The confrontation was fierce, and many lives were lost. A valiant priest, while sacrificing himself, trapped Mormo in the box using scripture, prayers, and an ancient ritual. The chest, now secured, was entrusted to the Templars. It was placed in the village church, but stories of sinister whispers soon drove the priests to madness. To protect the townsfolk, it was decided to remove the box from the church. The crest on the iron strongbox became the eternal seal of Mormo. Under the watchful eyes of the Templar and church, the box began to emit sinister whispers. Tales of priests driven to self-harm spread like wildfire through the streets. To shield both the townsfolk and the relic, the artefact was removed from the confines of the church. The iron strongbox found refuge in a newly constructed hamlet by a tranquil lake. The Templars erected an intimidating monument, its secrets buried deep within the earth. With unwavering resolve, they stood guard, their watchful eyes ever vigilant against the passage of time and any who dared to intrude upon their sacred charge.

With steadfast resolve, the Templars stood watch over the sealed chains, unyielding against the passage of time.