_Pictures are located on Wattpad.
Could not upload them to this site.
I'm so sorry!
Later that night while painting a new piece for my canvas collection, I notice a distinct lack of Baby Mikaelson. Usually, he's talking my ear off about his latest ghost adventure or asking me to read one of his favorite books. So, setting my paintbrush in my water mug, I head towards my bedroom door and make my way downstairs to look for him.
The moment I step off the landing, I can hear voices coming from the living room. Before I can investigate any further, my phone starts ringing from upstairs. I go back up with no progress in my previous search.
As I make it back into my room and towards my bedside table where my phone is, I see the caller ID.
Braxlee. One of two of my only friends. They're the only two who decided to give me a chance when everyone else thought of me as mental. Not that everyone doesn't still.
Mom and I are known as the town crazies. After years of watching my Mom talk to the dead, I've learned to not care what other people think of us. I've also learned not to feel guilty when I can't see someone's loved one. Sometimes people hate us for that and hold it against us. I'm not sorry because your loved ones decided to move on and you can't accept it.
I'm also not sorry for being honest about it.
Picking up my phone, I answer.
"Hey, Ax." I greet.
"Nora. Hi. Listen, Can Ever and I come over tomorrow? We got some freaky shit going on that we thought maybe your family could help us with." She replies.
"Yeah, sure. Stop by whenever."
"Thanks, girl. We'll come by around mid-afternoon." She sounds relieved.
"Alright, see you then."
After hanging up, I spend another hour on my painting, putting the finishing touches on. Once I'm done with that and cleaning up my mess, I grab a book that I've started called 'The Thirteenth Tale', from my bookshelf, get myself nice and comfy, and read 'til I fall asleep.
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'" Why recall the picture now, you must be wondering. The reason I remember it so well is that it seems to be an image of the way I have lived my own life. I have closed my study door on the world and shut myself away with people of my imagination. For nearly sixty years I have eavesdropped with impunity on the lives of people who do not exist. I have peeped shamelessly into hearts and bathroom closets. I have leaned over shoulders to follow the movements of quills as they write love letters, wills, and confessions. I have watched as lovers love, murderers murder, and children play their make-believe. Prisons and brothels have opened their doors to me; galleons and camel trains have transported me across sea and sand; centuries and continents have fallen away at my bidding. I have spied up the misdeeds of the mighty and witnessed the nobility of the meek. I have been so low over sleepers in their beds that they might have felt my breath on their faces. I have seen their dreams."'
Right when the book was starting to get good, I could feel myself starting to doze off. Eyelids heavy, breaths getting deep, my mind not being able to focus on the pages of another world. I give up on the battle of trying to stay awake after a few minutes longer. I place an old clothing tag between the pages, marking my spot, and set the book aside on my bedside table. After I've plugged my phone in and gotten myself situated, I finally allow myself to succumb to the dream world.
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Opening my eyes, I find myself back in the spacious nook above my Mother's library. It appears to be past midnight in here as well. The time in the dream world doesn't always correspond with the time in the real world.
Kol is already sitting on one of the lounge chairs with an open copy of 'The Shining' by Stephen King.
He hasn't noticed my arrival just yet, giving me the chance to take into account that he looks a lot less haggard than he did six months ago.
He knows he's in a world where his siblings can't get to him yet he's not stupid enough to let himself fully relax as they could wake him at any given moment.
That's the part he hates. That he'll still be in their clutches as soon as that dagger is removed. He hasn't known what freedom is in a thousand years. They always knew where he was one way or another. Always keeping him on a tight leash.
Very rarely did he ever manage to escape their clutches. They never cared about him enough to leave him to his own devices for long. Never have his siblings given him the benefit of the doubt. Never have they given him a chance to prove himself. Never have they asked him why he is the way he is. Not once has an apology escaped their lips towards their hurting wayward brother.
It's no wonder he doesn't trust them. They never gave him a reason to. I hope karma bites them in the ass. I hope she bites hard. I want her to make them bleed.
As I'm stewing in my mind about Kol's siblings, I don't realize that he's noticed me. Or that he's been observing me, trying to figure out where my mind has gone to.
"So!"
I whip my head up to meet his eyes and I just know I've got the whole 'caught-red-handed' look on my face by the way he raises his brows.
"Are we going to begin the last part of what I need to know?
Because I am really ah...what's the word?...Ah! That's right...digging this book." He says while holding up the book he's been reading with a grin on his face.
Of course, that's the book he would choose. I'm not surprised.
"Well, all you really need to be caught up on is literature and I doubt you want to go through that. Besides! There's something I've been meaning..to...tell you."
There's a slight pause in his demeanor when I say that.
"Oh?"
"What would you say if I told you that I've been keeping a huge secret from you?" I ask
He's already on guard as soon as those words escape my lips.
He takes a minute to absorb my question, wondering what I could possibly be hiding to warrant my sudden nervousness around him.
"Well," He says slowly, almost cautiously.
"It depends on the secret I guess. Why? It's nothing bad is it?" He asks with suspicion lacing his words and narrowing his eyes. Looking for any signs of my body language that tells him to withdraw immediately.
"Nothing bad." I quickly reassure.
"At least I don't think so. Just...life changing."
"Really, really life-changing," I say while trying and failing to sound reassuring. That sentence sounded more like a question coming out of my mouth.
"And what, pray tell darling could possibly be life-changing to a thousand years old vampire?" Kol asks while setting down his book in order to give me his undivided attention.
"Have you ever heard of a medium?"
He thinks for a moment.
"I can't say that I have."
"Really? In all the years you've been alive, you've never heard of a medium? I mean I know I'm the one who asked, but really? Never?" I'm honestly kind of shocked to be honest.
"Well, let's not forget that while I did exist for quite some time, I was also daggered for a good chunk of it too. So I very well could have been laying in a box while these 'mediums' walked the earth."
"Right. Well, a medium is a person who is able to communicate with the dead."
"Like a witch."
"No, they're not witches. They're completely human."
"But if they're not a witch, then how can they use dark magic?"
"It's not dark magic either."
"A seer then."
"Nope, not a seer. Can you please be quiet and let me explain?"
He just rolls his eyes and motions with his hands for me to get on with it.
Impatient little murder bean isn't he?
I decide to wait a minute just to be spiteful.
Annnd there's the 'I-know-what-you're-doing-and-I-don't-like-it' glare.
"A medium is a person who is able to communicate with the dead." I hold my finger up when he opens his mouth.
"They are the bridge between the world of the living and the world of the dead. They are what some people call 'messengers' because of the gift they possess. They can sense a spirit from a mile away based off of the energy a certain spirit is giving off. It's really all about emotions. Whether it be happy, mad, anxious, anything really. It's there."
"So if someone wanted to talk to the dead, they would have to find a medium to be the mediator between them?" Kol asks with a slightly confused face. He's not used to human logic, he only ever studied witches and other supernatural species.
I start to pace as I explain that part of being a medium
"That's the thing. Mediums are so rare that they could almost be classified as extinct. Not to mention that they are a human entity so it's next to impossible to find one. Unless you know where to look.
They're not part of the supernatural community because they have absolutely nothing to do with magic. Even the dead don't always know where to look as they're so used to not being seen that some have literally given themselves whiplash from being spoken to by one.
Also, it's not always a guarantee that a spirit will answer as sometimes they move on before they are summoned by the living. People tend to hate that. They think mediums can actually control the spirits. That's a false accusation that everyone tends to believe.
Sometimes a spirit has unfinished business with the living. It's when they want revenge that you have to keep an eye out or else you'll get blindsided by one. Never fun when that happens. It's best to try and get the message across as soon as possible before any unnecessary accidents take place."
He looks thoughtful for a moment as he contemplates what I've told him so far
"...Why are you telling me this? You seem to know a fair bit about these 'mediums'. Why tell me?" He asks with an air of suspicion surrounding his entire being.
"Because Kol. I'm a medium. I can see and talk to the dead. I know what they want and I know what they try so hard to say. I am a bridge.
Knowing what I know. Seeing what I've seen. There's a whole other world out there. Some find peace. Some stick around. Some...some are all alone with no idea what to do."
"You're a medium." He states with wide eyes but then closes them and shakes his head and instead asks
"You can see the dead? Talk to them?"
"Yeah! And there's something else you need to know."
He just stares at me with raised eyebrows and something in his eyes that I can't quite distinguish.
"Since I was a little girl, there's been this spirit that I've come to know quite well. He's my best friend. I'd even go so far as to say that he's like another brother to me. He's been a part of my family for a while now.
For the past few months, he's been a little on the quiet side, and since he's such an outgoing individual we've all started to worry a little.
It wasn't until recently that he finally confided in us about what was wrong. He wanted contact with his family. The only problem is that he's been dead for a really long time and people tend to be skeptical a lot when it comes to talking to the dead. They think it's all one big hoax. Until we air out their dirty secrets for all to hear that is. Then they're just plain pissed.
Not to mention, he's scared.
He's scared of what his family will think of him. That they'll be mad at him for getting himself killed. He died young and thinks it's his fault for not listening to his family's warnings of not going out at night. He doesn't want to be considered a disappointment to them." I try to explain to the best of my ability without giving too much away.
By the look on Kol's face, I think he has an idea of who I'm talking about.
With a blank face, stock still, and looking straight ahead he asks in a tone so low I can barely hear him. "This friend of yours, what's his name?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Henrik. His name is Henrik Mikaelson."
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The text in bold towards the top of the chapter is from a book called 'The Thirteenth Tale' By; Diane Setterfield.
I do not own it, the work belongs to her.
I'm so sorry about the wait.
A combination of writer's block and a loss of interest.
I was so excited when I started this. Now it's like all my inspiration is gone.
Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. Stay safe, wash your hands and wear your masks.
~Jo