AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a story that's been on my mind for quite some time. It's about an OC of mine, Adia, who was born in southeast Africa during the 11th century. This is the story of how she became a vampire and met the Mikaelsons and will probably take place through seasons 1-4 of The Vampire Diaries, before I take a different course of action. I also have no idea who her romantic interest will be, so if any of you have any thoughts as to who it should be, leave it in a review! If you enjoy it, make sure to favorite and review! I'll try to be steady with updates so I won't keep you guys waiting for too long. Alrighty, this has gotten waaay to long, so let's jump in to the story!
1097 AD.
Fingers combed through my thick, dark locks as words of comfort are whispered into my ear by my mother. I cannot help the tears that stream down my face as I grieve the loss of yet another child I was not strong enough to bear. This time I thought it would be different - I thought that if I prayed hard enough to Ala that she would bless my beloved and I with a beautiful child of our own. Alas, my prayers fell on deaf ears, and I had to bear the disappointed and sympathetic side eying from the people in my village.
I could deal with that though. I was never really one to care about what outsiders thought of me. But what I could not deal with was the look that my husband gave to me. He tried so hard to be patient and empathetic, but I can tell that his patience is beginning to wear thin. All of his brothers and companions are the fathers of several kids by now, but I cannot even give him one.
"What is wrong with me, mother?" I asked, the words sounding like honey as they dripped from my mouth in our native tongue. "Have I disappointed the gods? Have I desecrated or insulted them in any kind of way?" I knew that I had not. I was always the one who did right by nature and followed the rules. I sacrificed crops to the goddesses and worshipped at the foot of the sacred tree in the middle of our village. I gave thanks for how plentiful our land was and I never took for granted our blessings.
"No, my child. There is nothing wrong with you, and you have done nothing wrong. It is just not your time yet. Trust me - once you are ready to have a child, truly ready, it will happen." Her words of comfort fell on deaf ears as I stared out at the water in front of us.
This was my favorite place to be. Sitting on the dewy grass and allowing the breeze to brush against my dark skin. The crystal blue water was inviting and tempting, and if I was sure that we did not have to be back at the village in a few moments, I would have surely gone for a swim for a few hours.
"Is it time to go back now - " I could not even finish my question before we heard screams coming from the direction of our home. My mother and I shared a look, before getting up and running towards our village.
The sight we saw when we got there would haunt me for the rest of my existence. Blood was splattered across the grass and dirt, and I could see bodies piled upon bodies. Tears flooded my eyes when I noticed some of the faces amongst the deceased, most of them having been other young men and women that I grew up with.
"Adia!" The voice of my mother reached my ears and I turned to see a man tugging at her arm, pulling her away from the village. My father was too busy holding his own against three men, and my beloved was nowhere to be found. Had he already been killed? That brought on another round of tears that I could not stop, but I had to help my mother.
I ran towards her, smacking at the man's chest with all of my might. These men were strange - they had very pale skin and light hair and light eyes. I had heard stories about them before. My grandfather used to sit all the children around the fire during dusk and tell us tales about the strange white men who searched our land for wealth. They had no sympathy for us and would often slaughter us if it meant they could further their own cause.
My strength was obviously no match for his own, and he easily smacked me down to the ground. He shouted something at me in a tongue I could not understand, and then I was being picked up and carried away from my mother. I kicked and screamed and begged for them to let me go, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. My fingertips grazed my mother's and I could see the tears stream down her face before my own vision became too blurry for me to make anything out any longer.
I was being torn away from my home, my family. Everything I had ever known.
After a while I stopped struggling. What was the point? It was not as if I could seriously break the strange white man's grip anyway. I had to conserve what little energy I had left, just in case an opportunity to flee came about. I knew this land like the back of my hand, and I was sure that I could make my way back to another nearby village for safety and shelter. My mother was long gone by this point, of that much I was sure. I had no idea what had happened to my father, nor did I know what happened to my husband, but I had a feeling that neither of them were no longer alive. I prayed out loud to Azrail, begging him to have mercy on my deceased loved ones and to make their journey to the afterlife easy. I had a feeling that I would be joining them soon after, so I said a prayer for myself, speaking softly until I was roughly shook.
"Quiet!" The word was unfamiliar to me, but was spoken in such a tone that I knew that he was trying to tell me to be quiet.
I contemplated for a few moments whether or not it would be a good idea to try to claw at my captor's eyes and break free, but his grip was iron tight. I could not allow to go down without a fight though.
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to bite down on his pale hand, but before I could do anything I was being tossed roughly to the ground. I groaned out in discomfort, immediately sitting up and scrambling away from the strange men. There were four of them, all dressed in strange clothing. Who were these men?
My heart rate sped up as they spoke in their language, and then my blood ran cold as they began laughing and pointing at me. It was not the kind of laugh I used to share with my friends and family, but a chilling laugh that one would associate with something or someone evil. My skin crawled as their eyes raked over my form.
One of them approached me and I kicked him in his genitals, forcing him to double over in pain. "Stay away from me!" I screeched, which seemed to only fuel their anger. They all came at me at once, their hands roughly squeezing at my waist and my breast. I immediately knew where this was going and I began to fight against their grip. Of course it was no use. I being a woman, even a full grown woman at nineteen years of age, would not be able to fight off four full grown men.
What they did to me next was the worst thing imaginable. They took turns forcing themselves on me for what felt like hours. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, they ignored me and continued using me for their own pleasure. Soon enough I became desensitized to the attack, the pain leaving me and being replaced by an empty numb feeling. I faded in and out, each time I came back to the face above me was of a different white man.
I did not fully come to until I heard a very loud growl, and I could not thank the gods fast or hard enough. I assumed it was a wildcat who was hungry and looking for a meal. I would no longer have to suffer. I could finally be at peace and I would not have to deal with this pain any longer.
My eyes cracked open and I was surprised to see another set of pale people staring down at me. My immediate reaction was fear - more white men? But this time there was a female with them, sympathy in her eyes as she stared down at me. Her eyes were the strangest shade, almost as clear as the ocean I loved so much.
"Nik, we cannot just leave her like this. We have to help her."
"Bekah, she is beyond help. Look at her! She will be dead by the time the blood finishes healing her. And we do not need anymore vampires on our hands."
They were speaking the same language as the other white men, so they most likely could not understand me, but I could not help but beg for my life.
"Please! Just please, kill me. Lay me to rest. I do not wish to live any longer," I pleaded, looking between the three men and one woman.
They all exchanged looks, almost as if they could understand what I was saying.
"Idiots, the lot of you," the female spat, before approaching me and kneeling down to get on my level. "Shh, dear. You are safe now."
"Rebekah…" One of the men with dark hair spoke, his voice clipped with warning.
"What, 'Lijah? There is no way I'm going to let this poor girl suffer any longer."
As soon as she finished speaking, dark veins appeared underneath her eyes and her teeth elongated. She was a demon! There had been heavy talk about demons who roamed the earth during the night in search for blood, but how could these demons roam? It was daylight and they seemed to be fairing pretty well.
"Demon!" I gasped and weakly struggled against the female bloodsucker's grip, only to have her tighten it.
"Relax." She spoke while looking directly into my eyes, and against my better judgment and my will, my body went lax and I could no longer react as I wanted to, although I knew these monsters were dangerous.
I watched in horror as she bit into her wrist and placed her bloody wound against my mouth, forcing the coppery liquid down my throat. I gulped it down against my will, choking and sputtering when she pulled her wrist away from my lips.
"What have you done?" I gasped, wiping at my mouth.
"I just saved your life." Her voice held a haughty tone and I stared at her in shock. She could understand me?
Her pale hands then brushed against my neck.
"Rebekah don't you - " was all I heard before a loud snap took its place and darkness clouded my vision.