If ever the water
stops flowing from this
spout, hell will unleash
into the air and into the sea,
from within all men,
affecting all children,
witnessed and felt
by all women.
There was once a little set of twins that were beyond beautiful when they were born, and they just become more so as they grew. They were both fascinated with the fountain, and the prophecy. The little girl wanted to help protect it, and the little boy didn’t want to be curious, but was.
He wondered about who made it, and why it was there, in that specific spot. He wondered who had made the prophecy, and why everyone seemed to fear it.
Once they reached adulthood, the young woman twin, (who was called Saffron) lost her focus, and went away to be taught by learned masters. The young man twin (who was named Norman) became obsessed with the fountain. The burning question that grew with each day was what would happen if the fountain stopped? He didn’t really want to know, but he couldn’t stop himself daydreaming about what it would mean.
He prayed about his secrets, to every god he knew about. He prayed every moment, even one day in front of the fountain. Since then, he thought he saw the eyes of the fountain follow him wherever he moved.
Saffron came home unexpectedly, and she went straight to the fountain. When Norman saw her, his muscles froze. She took the sword at his side, and he saw her eyes were full of malice. She roughly grabbed his chin, and stared into his eyes. He saw her lovely blue eyes become all-black orbs. Her eye sockets changed to dark sunken pits, her face changed into a demonic hideous mess. Her body contorted, as she smiled at him, almost nose to nose, him still frozen.
Saffron picked up Norman like he weighed nothing, and manically danced around the courtyard. He couldn’t understand what was happening. This couldn’t be his sister.
“I am your sister, dear Norman. We used to dance in front of this fountain in the spring time, to celebrate the snow melt. And now, your prayers will be answered.” Her voice was not demonic, it was his sister’s. He felt his tears stream down his cheeks.
The demon Saffron carefully set her brother down, facing the fountain. She stepped back and gave him a mockery of a curtsy. She slit her wrist, and let the blood darken the pool below the fountain. She chanted in a language that twisted the brain into dark places, and made Norman want to blindly harm someone, or fuck them, or both.
She stopped chanting, and the feeling ebbed in Norman, but it did not disappear. He watched through new vicious eyes, as the demon Saffron climbed to the top of the fountain, and positioned her body to fall onto the sword.
“Now Norman, I need you to convince me, in your purity and chastity, that you don’t want to fuck something right now. If you can do that, Saffron won’t die. If she dies, and her blood enters the ground above the fountain, hell is unleashed. You only have a few minutes.” The voice that escaped was not Saffron’s, but some gravely horrible sound.
Norman paid with his sanity, then his own life for his curiosity. Saffron and Norman were found dead, in an unseemly embrace, by their parents. All traces of the demon were gone, and the fountain has remained cursed since the beautiful twins died.
The Dark Ages were born with the curse.