#sephwrites

[sephoria-paige]

The Story of Marabel’s Past

**This is my OC for Hazbin Hotel, Marabel. Character reference sheet/design coming soon!**

TW: mention sexual abuse, imprisonment, and generally bad times for this poor character

Part I

In her childhood, Marabel was a sweet and curious child. She was born in the southern United States to a mother who came from a long line of witches, and a father who worked on the railroads. Marabel’s mother made her young life whimsical within the walls of their quaint cottage. She taught Marabel how to properly plant seeds, care for them, and eventually she taught her daughter how to harness her magic- enhancing the growth of whatever she may plant. Marabel enjoyed having a small garden of her own, growing various flowers of several different colors, and perhaps a vegetable if she was lucky. Marabel’s mother showed her many small wonders, magical party tricks, and how to befriend the creatures of the earth. 

Tragedy struck the family when their mother died during childbirth; Marabel was only eight years old when her father, herself and her five other siblings stood at the funeral for their mother and infant sister. To say their family struggled to make ends meet would be an ignorant understatement. It became increasingly more difficult to put food on the table for six hungry, growing children.

Marabel’s older brothers eventually joined their father on the railroads to help make what meager money they could. Their father resorted to something truly unthinkable after a couple particularly rough weeks when the foreman caught a glimpse of a picture of Marabel, the eldest daughter. Watching her childhood home slowly shrink in the distance, with tears silently rolling down her cheeks, would be a memory she would not soon forget. 

The carriage took her away to a train station, where Marabel marveled at the large mechanical beasts before being hurriedly ushered onto a train bound eastward. The railroad foreman secretly dealt in the trade of children on the black market, making a profit off her by selling her to a couple who claimed to be burdened with infertility. The couple brought her to their home where they housed two other boys who Marabel discovered were the couple’s biological children.

She was given a couple sets of ragged dresses as it was made clear she was here to work for the owners of the house. Her days ran unbelievably long as they exploited her for manual labor, household chores, and anything else they could think of. The meals they allowed her were bland, lacking any fresh ingredients or proper nutrition. As difficult as life became after her mother died… This house was truly one of horrors. Many nights she stared into the unwavering darkness in the witching hour, wondering why her father had sold her. Had he not loved her enough to keep her and make something work? Did he know where she was now? She spent many sleepless nights fruitlessly attempting to accept the reality that she would never know why. 

The woman was harsh and unforgiving. She scolded Marabel often with lashes and isolation if she was especially furious- those days Marabel was given only one bland meal a day. She knew not what the man did for work, but whatever it was it took him out of the house. When he did return his cruelty matched that of his wretched wife. Abusive, irrational, unrelenting. There were days he returned particularly cross, and if Marabel was within his sights he dragged her out to the barn where no one could hear her protests, and he forced himself upon her, defiling her. The years of abuse taught Marabel that it was in her best interest to detach herself from her nightmarish reality. During the unspeakable acts she endured she would imagine herself anywhere else to bring her a modicum of comfort. 

In the good moments she found solace in the forest nearby the house she dwelled in. Recalling the memories of her outdoor adventures with her mother, growing flowers and living in harmony with the woodland creatures. Over time, Marabel befriended new small creatures- one white rabbit in particular that would appear whenever she would escape the house in search of refuge in nature. 

Marabel learned to be obedient in the eyes of her abusers, perceptively noting certain particulars that would incite their wrath, consciously avoiding them for her own well being. There were plenty of times her efforts were fruitless, as nothing seemed to truly protect her from their cruelty. In her young naivety Marabel found herself craving their praise, almost as a last-ditch effort to make her life easier- what little control she could muster. She miserably tried to present herself as docile and obedient, showing them the ‘good behavior’ she thought they wanted, which became wholly confusing when the man of the house would steal her away to ravish her young body. Conflicting emotions raged within when her thoughts raced and sleep evaded her- she came to question her very existence in this hell.

After a particularly stressful day of verbal abuse from the woman and an ill-fated encounter with the man of the house, Marabel escaped to her sanctuary in the forest, but as soon as she was just beyond the tree line she fell to her knees, clutching her chest. The uncontrollable feeling of panic grew as she heaved each breath- despair, self-loathing- Mara felt disgusted when she saw her reflection. All she could see was a shell of a person- a person whose body was nothing more than a commodity to the people who owned her. In the weeks and months following, these feelings would return to haunt Marabel, forcing her to adapt when she could not manage an escape to her woodland haven. She hid behind corners, finding nooks and crannies in the house to hide away, even if just for a moment, never truly getting accustomed to the near-constant anxiety. 

As Marabel grew into an older teenager, she began a ritual of sneaking away some nights. The nights she was able to sneak out, she would prepare by slipping valerian root into the nighttime hooch of the man and woman of the house. At first it was to guarantee time to visit her modest sanctuary, spending time with her woodland companions to bask in the moonlight, miles away from the property she lived on. Many months passed until Marabel thought of something truly daring. She had stolen a map from the house, locating a city a few more miles away from the house, away from her sanctuary. Distance be damned, Marabel had made up her mind to prepare for her next adventure- the biggest one yet, for it was too good to pass up. Each time she made her escape thereafter she would add more valerian root, masked by the alcohol in their cups, and traveled farther and farther, becoming more familiar with the land as she ventured. 

One night Mara found herself on the outskirts of the largest city she had ever seen, wandering until a smallish building caught her attention, bustling with loud music and echoing crowds of people. She had never seen such a place before, and her curiosity got the better of her as she located a small window on the far side of the building. Trying her best to appear discreet, Marabel peeked over the edge of the window, her eyes immediately drawn to a stunning blonde woman singing on a stage in front of a small band, who was just outside her spotlight.

The music was loud and lively; the voice of the blonde woman complimenting the instruments perfectly as Mara stared, enthralled with her beautiful singing. Her face flushed as she continued watching, butterflies fluttering within her as she noticed the woman was quite attractive in her sparkly dress. With all her attention on the alluring performer, Mara failed to notice she had caught the attention of a patron of the bar. 

He eyed her curiously as she watched the show, oblivious to his prying gaze. A moment of distraction pulled his attention away long enough for her to disappear by the time he turned back to look for her, for she had vanished as mysteriously as she had appeared. The patron man discreetly excused himself from the bar, rounding the corner of the building in an attempt to follow the strange girl. Alas, he was met with an empty clearing, and she was nowhere to be found as he was left lingering, wondering who she was. 

Marabel returned to the farm after her long journey back only to be blindsided by an outcome she had failed to account for all the nights she made her escape. The man and woman of the house were awake and furious when Mara walked through the entrance door in the hours of the early morning. The punishment was severe- two weeks in isolation. Under the farmhouse, separate from the house they lived in, was an unfinished basement area with a rusty cot in the corner to serve as a bed, cuffs welded onto the headboard and footboard.

There was no light in the basement where Marabel was trapped all day and night, subject to the perverted whims of the man and eventually his sons later on, for the first time ever. There was no escape from their indulgences; even when they left her alone all she would do is ruminate in her thoughts, feeling suffocated by the darkness. Eventually she began to feel anger- anger toward the cruel people who bought her, anger toward her father for selling her, toward the world for allowing all of these horrible things to happen to her, toward her mother... for dying and leaving her all alone. 

She paced the room back and forth, back and forth, balling her fists in a rage-induced fit of despair– she lashed out into the nothingness– a momentary relief from the strife she held within her. It wasn’t enough. The hatred she harbored spilled over her threshold for restraint as she screamed into the abyss, clenching her fists until she felt the familiar slick of blood running down her skin. Her mind swirled; she sank to her knees, holding her head in her bloody hands as she contemplated her sanity. However there was too much adrenaline coursing through her to sit still as she opted to stand once again. Blind with the desire to lash out, she swung into the darkness once more– only this time she was astonished by the flame that left her fingers, scorching the stone wall that she had narrowly missed. Marabel froze, shock written on her face as she stared in disbelief, the last flicker of flame dying at her bare feet, swallowing the room in shadow.

She had never produced anything like fire before. 

A pang of fear shot through her core as the discovery of this power sunk in. For once in her young life, Marabel felt she had a chance to have some power of her own. It also wasn’t too bad to be her own self-sufficient heater during the cold nights. From that moment on, Marabel leaned into her anger, giving herself permission to harness the energy that came with it, for it made her feel truly powerful. Her anger and resentment fueled her flames when she practiced in secret– even after her eventual release from the basement. 

One day she saw her chance. It had been months since her last escape that landed her in a fortnight-long punishment. The man and woman of the house had returned from a rare night out together, drunk off their asses. They, as well as their sons, slept like the dead that night as Mara tiptoed around the house, igniting small, flammable items as she made her way to the front door. She ran as fast as she could towards the forest, only occasionally looking back to see the light of the fire grow brighter as it engulfed the first floor of the house.

As soon as she felt she was safely away from the growing fire, she turned to admire her work. If she focused she could hear the frantic screams filled with fear as the family woke to the fire creeping outside their bedrooms. Marabel rested against a large cypress tree for a while, watching the structure collapse and the screams die out. The happiness she felt as she realized she was finally free of their torment was all too fleeting as she sighed, turning her back to the destruction she caused. 

This was hardly the end for her as she started on her journey of newfound freedom, not once looking back. She had vowed to live life for herself; that she would rely on no one beside herself. 

Her conviction was strong, and she spent several weeks out in the wilderness alone, fending for herself somewhat easily. Until one day, she heard strange noises coming from the direction of a clearing in the woods– finding a group of women dressed all in black, candles burning in their palms, standing in a circle around a severed goat’s head, pooled in blood. Marabel watched from the shadows as they performed what seemed to be some sort of ritual– right up until the moment she was blinded by a bag thrown over her head, her captor dragging her towards the clearing she had been spying on. 

“Who is this? An outsider?”