"Reporting live for Rhythm Kitchen, this is Melody Muse with the latest in your music news. I come to you today with the tragic news of our beloved underdogs, 'Witchhunter'. Coming in at three AM this morning, it was reported that their van went off road and crashed — both Caspian Somerset and Indiana Graves, known as Nova and Salem respectively, were pronounced dead at the scene. Their lead singer, Clarence Campbell-Clark, is currently being seen as Lady of Mercy hospital and expected to make a full recovery. All further tour appearances have been cancelled."
CLARENCE CAMPBELL-CLARK was a loner in school, until he wasn't. He was a singer in a band, until he wasn't. He had a family, until he didn't.
Clarence crawls out alone, from impossible heat to far too cold night, thinking wildly that if he just got some fresh air he could go back in and help. He ends up standing near the wreck just watching, frozen, the light of the fire too bright against the dead night sky—
He can see, vaguely, two of Cas, one body wrapped around the tree and the other screaming something in wordless panic. Indy's in the car, slowly blurring from one to two, which doesn't make sense. Clarence thinks maybe the smoke affected his eyes or his brain. He swears, years later, that only a moment has passed by then, but it's been full minutes. When he finally decides he should step forward into the ball of flame to try to do something, anything, instead his body betrays him and he falls to his knees on the bloody concrete. Why is it so wet and coppery underneath him? Messy. Too messy. Wasn't supposed to be this messy, or this early. It's the last thing he thinks before passing out.
He wakes only briefly in the ambulance, breathing apparatus on his face, and though there's EMTs hovering over him talking quietly, he's pretty sure he can still hear the screaming of both metal and human.
"Are they... alive...?" he manages to croak out, muffled and dry, red-stained fingers trembling as he reaches for the sleeve of the nearest emergency worker.
He doesn't get to hear an answer. The dark takes him again, and this time he stays there for a while.
◆ Clarence crossed over at least once before being brought back by EMT workers. This may have given him the ability to sense things from the other side — or it may have awoken something he already had an affinity for. The jury's out on this.
◆ He's rich. Rich enough to not pay close attention to money. The accident, and his solo career afterward, catapulted him into a stardom he would not have pursued on his own otherwise.
◆ The destroyed van sits in his yard to this day. He won't get rid of it, but he also refuses to fix it.
◆ For all the shit he's gone through, he remains a particularly chill and even positive person, although his smile never shows his teeth, and his unwavering stare tends to put people off regardless. They usually chalk it up to him being some goth king, but it's not an act, it's just him. And his autism, probably.