The Strange Ones

9 young and extremely powerful demons roam freely upon the Earth all of them destined to bring about the end of the world. They are the Antichrists, Lucifer’s only children, and they must fulfil their purpose in exactly one year or face the consequences.
One of them is determined to avoid her destiny. Elizabeth Crawford- Beth as she was once known; she is the Princess of Violence, the seventh wheel in her demonic Father’s lust for power. Yet all she wants is her normal life back.
There are certain humans, who have been unknowingly chosen by the Enemy to fight back, and whether they like it or not this puts them on the Devil’s hit list. But when Beth’s marching orders finally arrive, she finds herself slowly falling for the one person she and her clan are meant to destroy. Even worse, he just happens to be an international superstar, and member of the world’s biggest boy band.
Harry Styles never even saw her coming until it was too late.
Full Bio included in first chapter.

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1. The Dream

A/N: So this story I originally published on www.onedirectionfanfiction.com, but since it wasn't very popular over there I thought I'd try a different website. So first here's the original full bio I had for the story, and then finally the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Strange Ones Behind the thin and fragile veil of fame, wealth and power, deep and dark secrets lay hidden in the backstreets of West London… There is a Prophecy. They were taken 5 years ago from their lives on this planet on All Hallows Eve. 9 young and extremely powerful demons roam freely upon the Earth for the first time in half a decade, all of them destined to bring about the end of the world. They are the Antichrists, Lucifer’s only children, and they must fulfil their purpose in exactly one year or face the consequences. One of them is determined to avoid her destiny. She lets her mask slip forward onto her chest, revealing her dark auburn hair and coal black eyes. Elizabeth Crawford- Beth as she was once known; she is the Princess of Violence, one of the three most dark within her siblings, the seventh wheel in her demonic Father’s lust for power. Yet all she wants is her normal life back. In the end, sacrifices must be made. There are certain humans, who have been unknowingly chosen by the Enemy to fight back, and whether they like it or not this puts them on the Devil’s hit list. But when Beth’s marching orders finally arrive, she finds herself slowly falling for the one person she and her clan are meant to destroy. Even worse, he just happens to be an international superstar, and member of the world’s biggest boy band. Harry Styles never even saw her coming until it was too late. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She sat up straight, alert, her bony fingers fiddling with the fabric that made up her night top, her eyes focused intently on the alarm clock which stood precariously on the edge of her bedside table. The numbers were illuminated in an eerie glow, and flashed the time across her vision every few seconds. 11:25. Her bedroom lay in darkness without the artificial light of her lamp releasing it’s warm glow: she would have preferred to have it, but she knew that if she turned it on her foster parents would know that she was still awake and her carefully laid plans would be ruined. She had been planning for this night for a long time, and she couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong. Her scattered thoughts were interrupted by her father’s deep footsteps walking across the landing above her, and she felt her body freeze. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited until she heard him clump slowly up the stairs again, to the master bedroom on the second floor. She let out a sigh of relief. She knew from years of living with this particular family that he would not come down again. Now was her only chance of escape, and not a moment too soon. Gently, she lifted her thin quilt off of her cold legs, revealing the skinny jeans that she had concealed underneath them. She slowly swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and with a small jump she pushed herself onto the floor and to her feet. She paused for a moment, almost expecting someone to come charging into her room and demand to know what she was doing, but no one did. This was just as well, as she had no way of explaining it to them. They just wouldn’t understand. Nobody would. As quickly as she could, she bent down and reached out for a pair of pumps that had been discarded beneath her bed, slipping them on, before she grabbed one of her cheap denim jackets from where she had thrown it onto her floor only a few hours ago. She zipped it over her pyjama top until it was completely concealed. Not that it mattered to conceal it, of course. Fashion was the last thing on her mind; besides, it was too dark for anyone to notice anyway. She padded silently over to the window, where she reached behind a family photo of her foster mother on holiday and revealed a hidden key, which she had stolen from the kitchen drawer whilst the rest of the family were having their evening meal. She placed the key into the window and turned it. With a brief clicking noise, the window pane came loose and she pushed the glass upwards, releasing a cold gust of wind into the room, disturbing the gentle turn of her collection of dream catchers and many other things from her false childhood which hung from the walls. Without a moment’s hesitation, she swung her legs over the window and onto the front garden on the other side. She jumped from the ground floor window, landing on top of a neatly stacked pile of leaves which rustled under her sudden weight. Her heart skipped a beat as she sat still, terrified that the family might have heard her, but no lights came on within the rest of the house and she let herself get up again. She turned to shut her window, and as she did so she glanced through to her bedside clock again. 11:45. Dammit. She froze, then panicked as she realised how little time she now had left, and she pushed down on the window pane as hard as was possible, leaving a small gap as she finally gave up on it and ran as fast as she could from her childhood home; the place which she had known for a long time she could not stay, especially not tonight of all nights… She kept on running down the road, passing the quiet urban surroundings that she lived in without a second thought. She ignored the loud and raucous laughter coming from the lone groups of teenagers walking in the middle of the road. Most of them had obviously come from some sort of party, as she could see that they were carrying empty liquor bottles in their hands and were clearly drunk. She slowed down and edged herself closer to the houses on the other side of the pavement, hoping that the darkness would conceal her. She heard their distorted laughter again, and a series of loud smashes as beer bottles were flung forward onto parked cars nearby, setting off alarms and causing some of the neighbours to switch their bedroom lights on. She heard one of the old women who her foster mother would often force her to visit yell at the group from a window. They merely laughed and swore back at the old woman. Their harsh words cut into her conscience like knives, and she found it hard to resist retaliating. But she knew that there wasn’t time for that, and so she carried on. She forced herself to run down the street, passing smaller, scattered groups of people as she did so. Momentarily distracted, she bumped into a young couple who were heading home after a long night. She recovered quickly, but the male of the two turned and grabbed her wrist. She gasped as he heard him whisper hoarsely into her earlobe and she wrenched herself away from him. She tried to look him in the eyes to retaliate, but when she did so all she saw was a Scream mask concealing his face, and the girl he was with was dressed just as grotesquely; her face was painted pasty white in a pathetic attempt to look remotely vampire like, but she could tell that the girl had been more bothered about staying attractive than dressing up. The man who had grabbed her hissed through his mask, before turning away and walking with his partner. All of this reminded her of the significance of tonight: It was Halloween, the witching night, the holiday where otherwise normal people went around scaring each other. It was also her birthday. She had been born fifteen years ago at the last stroke of twelve on this very night. But this year was different. When the clock hit 12, she would come of age. And they would come for her. Knowing that the time was near, she swerved off of the main road and down an alleyway, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she felt her time slowly slipping away. She pushed on as far as she could go until she came out into a small courtyard, hidden behind an abandoned nightclub. She finally stopped running and stood in the centre of it, letting the moonlight hit her and shine on her fragile form. She waited. Suddenly, as she knew it would, her conscious mind sped out of control, plunging her vision into darkness. She collapsed on the cobbled ground, twisting and writhing in pain as she finally became aware of the world that she was part of, or that she had been part of. All at once, as if a countdown had been switched on in her brain, she could hear every clock in the whole of London drum its melancholy tune into her soul. They all began to strike one, two, and three. She moaned as each note hit her, her pain increasing with every tone as the time got closer, closer… Then it struck twelve. She opened her eyes, and screamed in pain as the ground beneath her crumbled and fell away, revealing an abyss of total darkness below her suspended form. She stopped to float above it for a few seconds, and tried desperately to cry out for help, but she only managed to squeeze out a whimper. She turned her head, and the last thing she saw was a dark shape watching her from the shadows of the buildings behind her, before her body dropped down into the hole. The cobbled pavement of the courtyard slowly sealed itself back up again, to hide the transformation that had occurred there. But one person had seen it. And that someone only stared from his post like a hawk stares at its prey, before disappearing into the darkness. Exactly 5 years later on All Hallows Eve, at 12:00 in one of the West End’s finest hotels, the famous 19 year old who went by the name of Harry Styles woke up with a start.
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