She was far too much soul, in too little body. -Unknown
She was running from monsters, both the literal and the figurative kind. Every few seconds her surroundings would change, from dark forests to historical mansions, then back to reality again. Or at least, she thought it was reality. She wasn't really sure; she never was. Twelve years of uncontrolled visions had left her suspicious of any reality she found herself in.
She believed she was seeing the world as her present self, rushing through the crowded streets of an unfamiliar city. People stopped and stared when they saw her, and she figured she must've been a sight to behold; a malnourished teenage girl wearing a plain white hospital gown, running through the streets like a maniac. She needed to get out of the crowded parts of town, before someone put the pieces together. She would not return to the asylum, not for any reason.
Her sapphire orbs scanned the streets, searching for an alley or a backstreet. She found neither, but she did find the entrance to a fairly empty park. She crossed the street, narrowly avoiding cars. Horns honked and people shouted at her, but she ignored them as she entered the park. The world around her changed again, as another vision took hold. She found herself standing in a burning building, smoke permeating the air. She coughed, the smoke filling her lungs as she breathed it in.
She cried out, begging the vision to end. Surprisingly, it did and she returned to the park. She shook off the vision, and searched the park; it was beautiful really, lush and green with flower beds spread throughout the open area. Benches were scattered throughout the park, places for people to sit and enjoy the scenery. She needed to sit and rest, she had been running for so long. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury to rest. They would find her if she gave them any chance of catching up to her.
She continued down the paths, searching for another exit to the park. In her efforts of doing so, she did not see the man approaching her. She turned to take off, but a grip on her wrist stopped her. She gasped aloud, turning to face her captor. She barely had the chance to meet his gaze before the visions started.
She had so little time to absorb over a thousand years of memories, but her mind somehow managed. She first saw him with his siblings, practicing swordplay in a village square. They wore clothes from olden times, perhaps Medieval. Searching his mind confirmed this; he was born sometime in the tenth century. The vision moved quickly, from his abusive relationship with his father to the death of his younger brother; guilt, like she'd never felt before. It was crushing her windpipe, making it hard to breathe. She pushed the vision onward.
Blood. Blood everywhere. It was smeared across his mouth, and the mouths of his siblings. Hunger controlled her. Her throat felt like it was burning, and she felt if she did not quench it she would die. She pushed onward again, this time watching as he and his siblings terrorized their village. Then, the burning of a tree, the only tree capable of killing them. Then, a curse. Betrayal. Pain. The suppression of his basic nature, the pain of loss. He felt so empty now. He screamed, and she screamed with him.
Anger. Anger so hot and uncontrollable it burned through his veins like liquid fire. He would have his revenge. He achieved it when he ripped out his mother's heart. Then, lies. Always and Forever. At least he had his siblings. They would never betray him, right?
They did. One by one, first with Finn, then Kol, and then Elijah. Finally, Rebekah. The last straw. They all left him. He was lonely. He couldn't trust anyone. He just wanted to be loved, to be understood. There was so much to absorb. Pain, regret, guilt, loneliness, sadness, anger, hatred, love. Information, on a world she had no knowledge of; vampires, werewolves, witches. Curses and doppelgangers, and hybrids. It was too much. Ghosts of his victims started screaming at her, and she screamed as well. It was too much, too much. She couldn't control it. She started sobbing, unable to stop the visions.
Then, they stopped suddenly with one feeling; Hope. Hope could end the suffering. The visions cleared, the world returning to its normal state. He was still in front of her, staring at her like she had two heads. She stared up into his crystalline eyes, pity overwhelming her senses, this time her own. She reached up, placing a hand on his cheek. Tears crawled down her cheeks, tears she shed for him.
"It's okay," She whispered softly. "You won't be lonely forever, Niklaus." They kept each other's gaze, neither saying anything after that. And then, the visions returned. The anger, the pain. She let go of him suddenly, her eyes clouding as she lost control again. She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I'll kill them. Kill them all! How dare they betray me!" She shouted. The energy around her picked up, becoming hot and powerful.
He grabbed hold of her again. She barely had time to turn, when the world around her faded to black.
...
New Orleans was a beautiful town. Lily walked the streets of the French Quarter, taking a picture every so often of the architecture or people. She found the entire town fascinating, and she hadn't even been there for one day. In fact, she was so new to the town, her things hadn't even arrived yet. She was waiting for the moving van to call her and let her know they had arrived outside her new apartment. Until then, she was satisfied touring the town.
She came to a stop outside a familiar shop; Jardin Gris Voodoo. She had seen it briefly in her vision, though she remembered it well. Of course, she always remembered her visions, for better or worse. She held up her camera, taking a quick picture. She then headed towards the shop, stepping through the door as a bell above her chimed.
The entire store was eerie, with dolls and candles, and the smell of herbs in the air. The place had a mystical feel, which made Lily even more sure that this was where she needed to be. She approached the counter, searching for the manager. "Hello?" She called out, when she saw no one. A young woman in her early twenties approached from the back of the shop, smiling politely at her in greeting. Lily narrowed her eyes on her.
Katie
24
Current mood was content
A witch
A smile grew over Lily's lips at the revelation. "How can I help you?" Katie asked, approaching behind the counter. Lily quickly put on a friendly smile, holding out her hand for her to shake.
"Hi, i'm sorry to bother you. My name is Lily, I'm a journalist. I'm doing a report on the supernatural legends in New Orleans, and I was wondering if you could spare a minute of your time?" She asked. Katie's grin never faded, but Lily sensed her change in mood to wary.
"Sure, but I don't know why you would ask me." She replied, voice deceptively calm. Lily motioned to the store around her.
"Well, you are running a voodoo shop. I thought you were a good place to start." She tacked a laugh onto the end, to calm her nerves. It worked, as relief flooded the woman.
"Of course, but you might have a better interview with a friend of mine, Sabine. She's a tour guide of the city, and knows all about its legends and folklore. I can give you her number if you want?" She offered kindly. Lily nodded enthusiastically, and then bought a charm bracelet as thanks for her time. "It contains bloodroot. Good for warding off hexes and spells." Katie informed her. Lily nodded, only half-listening.
She left the shop and headed towards her apartment, after having received a text informing her the van had arrived. She had found an apartment in the heart of the town, with a lovely view over all of the festivities. It had cost quite a pretty penny, not that it had been her money she'd used. As much as Lily loathed her powers, they did come in handy.
She arrived outside the building, staring it up and down with a smile. It was an older building, but it had been well taken care of and kept up with over the years. She also just liked the beauty of something old. The moving van was in the parking lot behind the building, already beginning to unload all of her things. She hurried into the building, opening the door to her apartment.
It was fairly spacious for an old apartment. Though she loved the space and the updated kitchen, she'd rented the apartment because of the balcony; it overlooked St. Charles Avenue, one of the best spots to view Mardi Gras. She loved celebrations, and she liked having a front seat row to them, if she wasn't partaking in them herself.
The movers entered the apartment, carrying pieces of furniture with them. She'd already given them a general plan of where she wanted everything, but she planned to stick around to oversee the process. The movers weren't finished until late afternoon, and Lily herself felt exhausted. They had gotten most of the furniture set up and where she wanted it, but she still had plenty of boxes to open and sort through.
She sighed in frustration, running a hand through her curls. She stood, approaching the bathroom and staring at herself in the mirror. Her dark brown curls hung loosely around her heart-shaped face wildly, having become mussed and messy throughout the day. She'd forgone makeup for the day, as she'd spent the first two hours of her morning driving. Lily found herself to be pretty enough, but nothing special. Not that she minded that much. There was more to life than appearances, though she did try not to neglect hers. Not so much for anyone elses benefit, but for her own.
She had been denied girly things like makeup and cute clothes in the hospital. Actually, she'd been denied most things. Because of that, Lily tried hard not to deny herself anything. She refused to live by the rules of others; if she wanted to dance on a table, she danced on a table. If she wanted to have a one night stand, she had a one night stand. If someone didn't like that, well, that was their problem.
"Enough unpacking," She murmured to herself, playing with her curls. She glanced out the balcony, a small smile erupting on her face. "I'm in the Crescent City; it's time to enjoy it." She gathered all of her hair and makeup supplies, and began to get ready. She didn't do much to her hair, merely fixing the curls and then pulling it up into a loose ponytail, loose strands hanging down to frame her face. She applied her makeup darker than usual, finishing it off with a stunning red lip.
Primping done, she returned into the living room, going through one her boxes filled with clothes. Lily had a more girly-boho style, and she had no trouble showing off some skin. She quickly found one of her favorite dresses, a short white dress with bell sleeves, with a mandarin collar with a cutout in the middle, the only thing keeping her modest an attached string in the center. She also pulled on a pair of tie-up light brown suede heels and large golden earrings. She pulled her necklace out from under her dress, letting the beautiful topaz stone sit over her sternum.
She grabbed her purse and headed out. She toured the most popular streets in New Orleans, stopping at street vendors and performers. She had no particular destination, her only goal being to enjoy the rest of her night. Men occasionally gave her flirty smiles, and she returned them, but she didn't speak to them.
Her exploring came to an end, when she was stopped by a man around her age with an arrogant air about him. He smiled pleasantly at her, and she narrowed her eyes on him.
Diego
26
Current mood was playful
There was something off about him, but Lily couldn't figure out what. She shook it off to paranoia though; more often than not that 'off' feeling came from a person having some form of mental illness; depression, or anxiety. She'd learned not to let it bother her. If anyone tried to hut her, she was more than capable of taking care of herself anyway.
"You look like a girl looking for some fun." He stated, eyeing her up and down hungrily. Lily raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms.
"Heard that line a million times. Hasn't gotten me into anyone's bed yet." She responded, and then moved to walk past her.
"Hey, whoa!" He called, gripping her arm a little too tightly. She whipped around, ready to read him his rights, but he spoke before she could. "Not what I meant. My boss is hosting a party, at his placed called 'The Abattoir'. We're inviting people like yourself, who want to enjoy the party life here in New Orleans." He said, and then pulled out a flier, hanging it to her. She took it warily, eyes scanning the paper quickly. His words had been honest too. She pursed her lips, meeting his gaze.
"Fine, but there better be good booze." She warned him, her tone taking a playful quality. He smirked, catching onto the friendlier aura around her. He nodded.
"Trust me, my boss doesn't like the cheap stuff. See you there?" He asked. She nodded.
...
"Sure. And if you're lucky, I might even dance with you." She walked past him after that, smirking. She couldn't help being a little flirtatious; it was practically in her nature. She'd grown mischievous over the past years she'd been released from the hospital. She spent a bit longer touring the streets, before she decided to head over to the party at the Abattoir. She found the place with surprising ease. Above the door, there was a calligraphy M, that instantly caught her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she studied it for a minute before a name came to her.
"Mikaelson," She murmured. She didn't know the significance of the name, so she shook it off and headed inside. The place smelled of alcohol and sweat. People all around her danced and partied, moving along to the loud music. She headed straight towards the bar, taking a seat and immediately ordering a scotch. She usually didn't like to get more than a buzz, otherwise her powers went out of control. But, tonight she was feeling reckless. She downed the shot once it was placed in front of her, and immediately ordered another. She had just ordered her third when she was approached by Diego.
"Slow down," He said, smiling suavely, taking a seat next to her. "The party's just beginning." He reminded her. She shrugged.
"The quicker I get drunk, the more fun I can have." She responded, and took the shot. He shook his head, laughing, but said nothing more on the subject. Instead, they settled into small talk, conversing about menial topics such as interests and hobbies. Later into the conversation, he began checking his watch. The fourth time he did it, she had to ask. "Bored of me already?" She asked, keeping her tone cool but teasing. He glanced up at her, giving a sheepish smile.
"Sorry, the party gets a bit more fun at midnight." He explained, but Lily sensed something ominous about his statement. She concentrated her attention on him, intent to discover his motives but she was very, very tipsy. She stood abruptly.
"Right, well I'm afraid I'm going have to leave before then." She answered, and then checked the clock on the wall. Not even thirty seconds before it was Midnight. Shit. Her warning alarms started to go off. She moved to leave, but he stood, grabbing her arm.
"Come on, don't go. It's almost time." He pleaded, but he was giving her that hungry look again. It no longer seemed like the usual look she got from men though, who only wanted sex from her. It was completely predatory, and it was setting her nerves on edge. She settled him with a glare.
"Let. go." She ordered harshly. He didn't move to let go of her. She yanked on her arm, but his grip was unrelenting. "I'll scream." She threatened, hoping it would make him back off. His pleading expression turned into a smirk. He leaned in closer, until their noses almost touched.
"Please do." He said coldly. Lily started struggling, but it was no use; the clock struck midnight. Before her eyes, his face changed. Black veins crawled beneath his eyes, and two sharp fangs appeared in his mouth. He hissed at her menacingly, and Lily could barely stand. Fear coursed through her veins, and she tried to back up. He pulled her back harshly, pressing her body against his. He grabbed her head, forcing her neck to the side, and then he bit her.
A scream escaped her lips at the searing pain. His fangs dug into her neck painfully, his grip on her unrelenting. 'He's going to kill me' she panicked. Her eyes searched the room. It seemed plenty of others were being bitten like her, screaming in pain like she did. She looked back to him, his head buried in her neck. She had to do something, but she was still so fuzzy. She flailed her arms, reaching around until they landed on his head. She forced as much concentration into her powers as she could. It worked, as she was able to force the mental connection. She wasted no time in sending psychic bolts of pain into his head.
He let go of her abruptly, screeching at the pain in his head. She kept her hands on his head, glaring at him hatefully. She delved further into his mind, discovering his greatest fears. She forced them forward, and then backed away as they took over. He fell to his knees, clutching at his head. He stared straight ahead, pure terror shining through in his eyes. He wasn't there at the party with them anymore, that much was obvious. He released a scream, and all attention turned to them.
She whirled around unsteadily. The others, with the same monstrous faces stared her down, and Lily knew it was only their shock keeping her alive. She had to do something, quickly, but she couldn't think straight. The mixture of alcohol and blood loss was making her vision blurry, and she wasn't sure how long she had before she passed out.
They shook off their shock, moving towards her at a startling speed. She swept her hand out to stop them, but all it did was send them staggering back a few steps. She stumbled, grabbing hold of a table to stop herself from falling. She had all but accepted her fate when they all suddenly stopped. A man had moved in front of her, blocking their path to her.
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to hurt her." He had a smooth british accent. She recognized it, somehow, but she didn't know from where. She didn't have time to ponder it. Black spots were dancing across her vision and her sole focus was on keeping herself awake.
"I don't allow witches to use magic here, Klaus." Another voice spoke, attempting to sound authoritative. The man in front of her slowly turned towards her. In her intoxicated state she couldn't make out details, but she could see his eyes; blue, like hers, but much lighter in color. She recognized those eyes, but from where? He approached her, placing a gentle hand around her waist to keep her standing.
"She's not a witch, Marcel." He spoke again, without taking his eyes off of her. He stared at her like he couldn't believe she was real. Was she? She wasn't entirely sure. She knew she shouldn't have drank so much.
"Then what is she?" The other voice asked, accusatory. Lily would've laughed if she wasn't in her current state. She couldn't even see the other man's face, but she knew the man before was stronger and more powerful.
"Well, that's for me to know." The man before her said. He reached a hand up to her cheek, caressing her skin softly. "Sleep, darling. You're safe." He promised. Lily believed him. She closed her eyes, and allowed herself to succumb to darkness.