Year: 2150
New Orleans, Louisiana, United States of America.
The shadow of two figures dance across the graveyard, casting shade across the tombstone. The glimmering sun is unforgiving, its halo basking the grounds with fake cheerfulness.
It is a punishment, the blonde thinks as her eyes briefly flicker to the shimmering sun, the heavens will not share our sadness. They will not cry their fury. They will not offer us comfort with raindrops.
She mouths none of it to her brother, as he stares blankly towards the name. Whatever runs through his mind remains hidden. He has not quite uttered over a sentence ever since the tragic loss. The thought of unspoken words quickly brings another brother to the forefront of her mind.
"Has he said anything to you?" Rebekah inquires hesitantly.
Do you truly want an answer for this?
"No" is Elijah's brief reply.
She falls into silence again. There is no need to mouth what this means. If they dare to speak it, it would become too real. And the reality of it is far too bleak for either of them to tolerate. The truth is, they're mourning two people. The one below the ground, and the other who is left destroyed behind them. Among all tragedies their family has suffered, this may be the greatest of all. So she holds her tongue, suppresses her tears and reads the name scrawled upon the stone repeatedly, as though wanting, no needing, to carve it across her heart.
Hope Marshall-Mikaelson
Hope Marshall-Mikaelson
Hope Marshall-Mikaelson
Year: 2700
New Orleans, Louisiana, United States of America.
"This house" the guide gestures his left, his voice booming over the loud chatter of the tourists "is haunted according to several reports of frightened people running to the police department"
That manages to silence the crowd for a moment.
"It has been locked for over three hundred years now. Rumor has it, a crazed immortal lives in there. A beast who howls in the night."
"Sounds like a bad horror movie" a man sarcastically chuckles.
"It does not sound so funny when you know that the five people who ever dared to step foot into the house during the last 500 years or so, never made it out."
Silence envelopes the crowd for a few moments before a woman with bright green eyes exclaims,
"Isn't it widely believed that the beast in there is Klaus Mikaelson?"
"Who's Klaus Mikaelson?" another asks.
"He's some sort of a legend" the guide begins "According to myths, he took over the city along with his family around 800 years ago. He was a beast, and a cruel monster who reigned over the city for quite some time before he simply vanished. Those who believe that he is the Crazed Immortal in the haunted compound claim that he was destroyed by his demons, and remains, to this day, battling his distraught mind."
"Puh-lease" a young college student scoffs "Klaus Mikaelson is just a myth. He's just a story to scare children into their beds"
"That, my friend, is probably true" the guide agrees with a smile "that doesn't change the fact that this compound is haunted."
The compound is truly haunted. Across the darkness, beneath the shadows, resides a shriveling body whose sentences are broken and his words are senseless. Klaus Mikaelson has indeed vanished along with everything beautiful, everything good, he has ever had in his life.
Now, nothing but a ghost of his past self remains.