Warnings for brainwashing, murder and talk of past rape.
Chapter 16-Westview part one
Clarke had fallen asleep soon after listening to her music, stretching herself a bit as she stood up, yawning and pulling her headphones off and dropping them onto her bed.
She ruffled her hair, pulling strands of her hair out from the collar of her shirt and yawned again, trying to recall what happened last night, then stiffened, remembering the vampires downstairs, who she essentially had become the prisoner of.
Clarke quietly cursed, knowing that speaking quietly would do nothing, since the vampires likely heard her.
She went across the room, to the door, opened the door and headed for the stairs. She went down the stairs and got to the living room.
To absolutely zero surprise on Clarke's part? The vampires were all there, all seated in one location or another around the living room, giving Clarke her space.
As soon as they saw her, their expressions brightened.
"Hello, Clarke," Wanda said, smiling at her, "Did you sleep well?"
"Don't all of you know that?" Clarke asked, "I mean, couldn't you hear if I was struggling in my sleep or talking in my sleep?"
"We can, yes," Mari said, "But we wanted to hear it from you, whether or not you enjoyed your sleep."
Clarke shrugged. "It was fine, I guess," she said.
She then added, glancing around the room at the different vampires, and for some reason, realized that she hadn't yet put her shoes back on and was more or less barefoot in the house.
She wasn't sure why she suddenly realized it or why it made her feel self-conscious, but it did.
She said quietly, trying to not think about how suddenly self-conscious she was, "I should get some breakfast. Excuse me," she went past a couple of vampires, to the kitchen, going for the fridge, when Melina sided up next to the fridge, reached out and opened it up for Clarke, looking at Clarke, smiling, "Is it okay if we make something for you?"
Clarke stepped back, cautiously eyeing Melina. She said, "I can take care of it myself. Stop trying to control everything."
"Melina," Natasha said from where she was seated at the side of the table, looking at Melina.
Melina glanced at Natasha, frowned in disappointment at Natasha's lifted eyebrows, and moved away from the fridge, allowing Clarke access.
Clarke shook her head, opened up the fridge and checked inside.
She'd forgotten how little she'd stacked up in the fridge. Most of the food she'd brought along were long lasting foods. Soups, cereals, preservatives.
She grumbled quietly and closed the fridge door, going over to the kitchen cabinets and opening up the cupboards.
She scanned the different things she had stored away in the cupboards, eventually deciding on a small jar of apricot jam and some plain bread.
She tried to ignore the feeling of the many eyes on her, as she applied the jam to the bread.
She couldn't do anything about her situation right now, given that the people around her were vampires that could easily gain control over her at any second. So, she might as well try to make her situation as livable as possible.
Clarke focused on her task at hand, when she heard Sylvie ask, "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Clarke fought the urge to whirl around and glare at Sylvie. Because what would talking accomplish?
"Talk about what?" Clarke asked, not looking away from her food, "What's there to talk about? What could you possibly want to talk about?"
"Would you like to know more about our coven?" Maria asked, "After all, it's going to be your coven, one day."
"Maria," Natasha hissed and Clarke almost appreciated the redhead for her trying to make the other vampires knock it off, but she reminded herself that Natasha was after the exact same thing as the rest of the vampires.
She knew couldn't trust Natasha, any more than she could trust the rest of the vampires.
"Fine," Clarke said, "Talk about the coven if you want. I don't care."
There was silence for a few moments and Clarke heard a few of the vampires exhale, as if saying without words, "Still being stubborn, huh?"
Then Mari began speaking, "There are many of us in the coven. Humans tend to portray our species in small covens, so as not to attract attention. But the older, bigger covens are good at keeping themselves secret.
No one would discover what we are. There are so many of us in our coven. We first formed in the 1100s."
Clarke froze, almost dropping the butter knife she was using to spread the jam on the bread.
The 400s? Was that even possible?
"The 400s?" Clarke echoed, "That's 400s, as in 400 BCE? Before common era?"
"Yes, Clarke," Maria chuckled, "A good number of us are ancient Greeks and Romans. As you can imagine, we're very old. So, please, don't plan on trying to do anything that might stop us. It won't work. The older a vampire is, the stronger they are. It's not like human beings and regular animals, where if they get old, they will become weaker. For beings of the supernatural, it is the opposite."
Clarke nodded, realizing what that meant. Ultimately, given these vampires' age, if what they said was the truth? Then there was absolutely zero chance of her getting away from them.
Which meant that ultimately, Clarke would have to do nothing as they kept her here.
Still, even with that knowledge, Clarke told herself that she had to find a way of doing something.
There had to be a way out of this.
A thought then came to her. This house, it was infused with magic, right? So, then, that might mean it had a weapon she could use against them.
Maybe Maurice Dumont's book even held some answer.
At least, that was what she hoped.
If not? Well, there was always the "going nuclear" option.
This house was part of some very old pact, right? Okay, Clarke might be able to work with that.
Because even if the vampires could still turn her, without the house, according to the pact, for some reason, the house needed to be standing and in Clarke's possession by the time the vampires chose to turn her. Otherwise for some reason, it would make the pact more complicated.
Okay, that was something Clarke could work with.
She just had to find a way of burning this house down, without getting the vampires suspicious, then she could stall their plans for a while. Maybe even long enough to escape.
But the question was, escape to where? Where could she go where these vampires wouldn't find her?
And besides, these vampires had already made it clear that they were willing to kill innocent people to pay back any action they considered keeping them from their mate.
Which meant that if she burned Lavigne Manor down, then ran for it, what would happen to Bruce, Sam, Steve and Sharon?
Clarke's mind tried to move quicker, as she finished up making her simple food, put the cap back on the jar of the jam and put it away.
She would have to somehow get her friends, then all of them together, as soon as the house was burned down, make a run for it.
Again, that left the question of where the hell they were going to go. But she had to try.
She didn't want to tear Steve, Sharon, Bruce and Sam from their lives, but if she ran and didn't take them with her, she'd be putting them in danger. Sure, her friends had nothing to do with her choices.
But these vampires had murdered Hugo Lavigne's fifteen-year-old son, Andre, for what his father had done. To punish his father.
Who knew what else these vampires were capable of?
So, if Clarke was going to make her choices here, she had to be very, very careful with how she planned.
She grabbed the plate she had placed the bread and jam on and turned away from the vampires, going to the table, avoiding looking at Natasha.
"You're angry," Wanda said, presuming this by Clarke's silence.
"Why would I be angry?" Clarke said, again, not looking at any of the other occupants in the room, "I'm only being kept in a house against my will by vampires that have been stalking me since the moment I was born."
"Oh," Clarke added, as she recalled something else, "And by the same vampires that murdered my paternal great-great uncle, when he was only fifteen years old."
She heard a couple of sighs.
Natasha said, "We do regret that. Andre was a child. But we had to keep Hugo from ever trying to go against us again. But if we knew of a way to do that without spilling a child's blood, we would have done it."
Clarke snorted, "More than fifteen centuries old, and you guys can't think of a more clever way of keeping someone in their place, than killing that person's child."
"We apologize, Clarke," Melina said, "We have yet to find a more effective means of keeping someone from going against us."
Sylvie said softly, "We would never hurt you, Clarke."
Clarke snapped, losing her patience, snapping her head in the direction of Sylvie, glaring at the older blonde, "You've watched me my entire life. Since I was born. Then you should know that that assurance? Isn't going to mean anything to me. I don't trust anything that comes out of your mouths. You should know that I wouldn't trust anything you say."
Sylvie did not look angered by Clarke's pissed off words. She just looked unsurprised by Clarke's outburst.
Sylvie nodded instead as she said calmly, "I suppose you have us in that regard. We do know you. We've known you for years, even if you didn't know us till now. We know that right now? You're in pain. Right now, you don't know what to do. And right now, you must think that there's a way out of this. Let me guess, you're planning on setting the house on fire, at some point."
Clarke's eyes widened, shock hitting her.
How did they know?
Clarke remembered something important. They probably could read minds. Glancing at Wanda with distrust, Clarke was startled to hear Natasha chuckled, smirking, "Clarke, we haven't read your mind. We just know you, as Sylvie said. We know that when you realize that you're cornered, you tend to make rash decisions. And we suspect that amongst the possibilities you feel you have at your disposal? Is setting the house on fire. After all, a destroyed Lavigne Manor, will make the pact that we have with the older vampires, somewhat more complicated, won't it?"
Clarke tensed, eyeing Natasha, then Sylvie, then Natasha again.
She figured that she should have expected this.
These vampires knew her. They all knew her.
They had watched her for literally almost twenty-one years.
They knew her.
Which made the chances she might have of escape all the more slim.
And again, the vampires seemed to have detected where Clarke's mind was going, because Wanda sighed, peeling herself off of the wall and stepping closer as she spoke, "Clarke, listen, won't you at least give us a chance? Wouldn't you like to see how we made Manchester safe for you and your friends so that they won't even be questioned by the police or reporters?"
Clarke paused, staring at Wanda. "All of you did something?" She asked, half fearing the answer.
"We did," Wanda said, "We did something for you. It's only temporary. We did it so that you could see what we were willing to do for you. There was an experiment that we conducted, many years ago. In the most western part of the United States. We decided to use the same methods of that experiment here in Manchester. In other words, no one will question you or your friends. We've temporarily altered the minds of everyone in Manchester, save for yourself."
Clarke cocked her head at Wanda, her eyes narrowed. What the hell?
"You….," she began, "All of you did what? You somehow think that's okay?"
"We knew you'd react like this," Mari chuckled, stepping closer, "Why don't we just take you into town? See how things are in your favor at this very moment."
Clarke glared at them. "Screw seeing how things are," she snapped, "Reverse it! You don't have the right to do that to people!"
"As we said, it's temporary," Sylvie said, "Just see it for yourself. See what Manchester is like right now, and see what we will do for you. Then decide whether you want us to take the spell off of them."
Clarke glared at them still, but all the vampires were smirking.
Wanda nodded to the food Clarke had made for herself. She said, "Just eat up, and we'll take you into town. If you want."
Sylvie's eyebrows were up and Clarke figured out what the older blonde was saying, easily.
They wouldn't force her to go into Manchester further and make her see what they'd do for her, but they were more or less egging her on. They were daring her. And as much as she wanted to tell them to go fuck themselves, she knew she had to see what the hell they had done.
If only out of complete curiosity.
So, even as Clarke still glared at the vampires, she picked up the two slices of bread smeared with jam and ate them both up fast.
When she was finished and she put the plate into the sink and washed her hands and dried them, she finally turned to them and grumbled, "Alright, let's go. But I'm telling you, no one had better be hurt at all. Well, outside of Abby."
The vampires nodded, many of them smiling, and Clarke walked to the door, the vampires at her side and she opened up the door.
They went out and Clarke locked the door, and was about to go for her motorcycle, when Melina chuckled, "That won't be necessary, Clarke. We'll carry you into the city."
Clarke stared at the vampires, all of them now smirking.
She looked over their surroundings. The sun had long since come up, and shined light throughout the forest.
"Won't we be seen?" She asked.
"No, we will not be," Melina assured Clarke, "We will stay in the forest, and we will move too fast, for anyone to see us. We just need to keep you against us, so that the accumulating speed doesn't harm you, as we move."
Clarke almost snorted. She figured that they would want a way of keeping her close.
This was as good enough way as any.
"Fine," she said, "Carry me there, I guess."
Happy to hear this, Wanda and Sylvie reached for her and picked her up and Clarke shivered as her body was pressed against theirs and their arms went around her waist.
Sylvie placed her hand on the back of Clarke's neck, Clarke presumed to make sure she wouldn't suffer from whiplash in the trip to the city.
Clarke had a feeling that both Wanda and Sylvie wanted to have their hands lower down below her waist, but thankfully, they didn't. Their hands thankfully stayed where they were.
But they moved. And they moved fast.
Clarke was lifted up off of the ground and she was carried fast through the forest. Trees, bushes, large rocks and logs sped past her vision as she was carried off.
Clarke had to close her eyes, starting to think she might just get dizzy.
In seconds, they came to a stop and Clarke yelped, thinking she might fly out of Sylvie and Wanda's arms, but she hadn't.
She breathed out in relief at that, and slowly felt herself being lowered down to the ground.
Clarke's vision cleared up, feeling dizzy, nonetheless.
She tried to keep her balance on shaky legs, and she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, steadying her.
"Easy, Clarke, easy," Clarke heard Wanda say, "I know it's hard to go that fast."
Clarke felt like she could make a joke, but she didn't feel like she could say anything all that much right now.
"Are we here?" Clarke finally managed out.
"Yes," Sylvie said, "Look around and see for yourself what we have done."
Clarke lifted her head and looked at the streets up ahead. The streets were full of people, none of them showing any obvious signs that they'd been affected by some sort of magic or something like that.
Clarke glanced at the vampires, and they just smiled. Clarke began to move away from the vampires, stepping closer to the groups of people around the streets.
She got close to the side of the road, seeing multiple people seated along a bench.
Clarke watched these people.
These people detected Clarke looking at them, but when they looked at her, Clarke saw no sign of them being angry that she was watching them, or even confusion.
What she saw, were multiple blank expressions.
People just smiling dumbly at her as she watched them.
Clarke's eyes widened with realization, as she backed away from them, turning to some other people clustered around, who were seated on a small patch of grass, looking at each other, but not saying anything.
Again, like with the people on the bench? These people on the patch of grass, looked at her, and Clarke could see nothing but blank expressions.
Clarke's stomach turned.
She whispered, "You made everyone in this place, into pod people."
She heard Wanda sigh behind her, "We had a feeling you'd react like this."
"How was I supposed to react?" Clarke mumbled, feeling cold, "You made these people into zombies!"
"It's only temporary, love," Melina said, "We only did it for you to see it. It will wear off soon as we leave. With you as a vampire."
Clarke glared at Melina again.
"You are going to fix this now," she ordered.
"We will not," Wanda informed Clarke, "It's temporary. These people are in no danger, whatsoever. We just did it to show you we'd do anything for you. These people will recover immediately, as soon as we leave. We'll turn you in the house, then we'll leave and these people will change back to normal."
Clarke shook her head at the vampires.
"You are sick," she said angrily, "You all are."
"Are we?" Natasha asked, smirking, "Clarke, everything we've done has been for you. If that makes us sick, then I think we might be proud to be sick."
Clarke shook her head. Everything about this was wrong. A thought hit her then. "What about Bruce, Sam, Steve and Sharon?" She asked, dread in her voice, "Are they going to be like this?"
"No," Wanda said, "We made it so that they were exempt from the magic we used. We had a feeling you wouldn't appreciate us using the magic on them."
"You'd be correct," Clarke grumbled dryly.
"We only did this," Melina said, "So that reporters, cops and other investigators would leave you be. Until you were turned."
Clarke wanted to scream. She wanted to grab something, some rocks maybe and chuck them at the vampires. But she doubted that that would do anything.
Instead, Clarke just demanded, still glaring at the vampires, "Take me to see my friends. Steve and Sharon first. Now."
The vampires nodded, and Wanda and Sylvie again, gathered Clarke up in their arms and they all shot off through the city. They must have gone faster than the fastest sportscar, but still Clarke heard know gasps or cries of surprise.
Clearly, whatever had been done to these people, inhibited them from ever commenting on what they were saying.
Maybe even kept them from noticing the superfast movement through the community.
The thirteen vampires took Clarke through the city, finally reaching where Steve and Sharon were located at their home.
When they reached Steve and Sharon's home, Sylvie and Wanda set Clarke down and Clarke ordered them not to follow her inside.
Most of the vampires smiled pleasantly, staying where they were, and some of them lifted their eyebrows suggestively at Clarke telling them what to do, they apparently, liked that she gave them that order.
Clarke scoffed, turned to the front door of Steve and Sharon's house, raised her fist and knocked.
After a few seconds, Clarke heard a clicking noise and the door opened up.
Steve stood in the doorway, smiling when he saw Clarke.
"Clarke," he said, "Hey, so, is everything finished up at the house?"
Clarke shook her head. "Not yet," she said, "Not by far. Listen, people in town are acting weird. So, maybe just stay away from the town for a while, okay? Just promise me."
There was silence, then Steve asked, "Clarke, are you alright?"
"Nope," Clarke said, "The answer is just 'no.' But if you want me to feel better? Then you and Sharon stay where you are. Sam and Bruce too."
Steve was quiet for several more seconds, frowning, then saying, "Whatever it is, it has to be important. And whatever it is, I hope you'll tell me. But alright. I'll tell Sharon. And call Bruce and Sam and let them know."
Clarke breathed in relief. "Thank you," she said, "Thank you, Steve."
"You're welcome," Steve said, "Clarke, are you sure that you're alright?"
Clarke chuckled dryly, "No, sorry, but I'm not sure I'm alright. I'll explain later. Just take care for now, please?"
"Okay," Steve said, after hugging, they parted and Clarke left.
When they were far from Steve and Sharon's place, Clarke then looked at the vampires with her, appearing tired, "Alright," she said, "so, there's no chance of anyone questioning or interviewing me or any of my friends?"
"None," Wanda confirmed, "The mental states of everyone here, are completely incapacitated, so, no one will attempt to interrogate you or any of your friends."
Clarke nodded. If nothing else, she was grateful for that.
"I want to go back to the manor," she said, "See if there's anything I missed about the Lavigne family, before I move forward with anything."
She knew they understood what she was implying with that. That she wanted to make sure she didn't need to take care of anything. Before they turned her.
The vampires all quietly agreed and took Clarke quickly back to the Lavigne Manor.
They reached the house and unlocked the door to the house and Clarke went in. The vampires followed her.
They closed the door and locked it.
Clarke switched on several of the lights as she grumbled, looking around the house, "So annoying. This house is huge. I probably haven't discovered half of the secrets here." She paused, then looking at the vampires. "But I bet all of you know about all of the secrets in this house."
Wanda, smiled and Helena, Dinah, Natasha, Yelena, Sylvie, Shayera and Mari all smirked.
The suggestion that Melina then gave to Clarke? To check behind the large picture of Jean and Aimee Lavigne, just across from them, at the entrance.
Clarke turned to where the large picture was.
She furrowed her eyebrows. There was something behind that picture the entire time? You had to be freaking kidding her.
She stepped over to the big painting and reached out for the picture, reaching for the frame.
"Allow us," Maria said, her and Sylvie going over and reaching out and lifting the painting up off of the wall, setting the large thing down onto the floor of the hallway.
After they did, Clarke looked at the now bare wall.
It was just a wall. No door, no safe or anything like that.
Seeing Clarke's confused expression, Sylvie chuckled, "Observe, love," and she went to the wall again, and Clarke for a second, just assumed that she was in some sort of bizarre movie, because just like in the movies, Sylvie clicked a small stone tab and with that click, the wall began to shift to the right, opening into a doorway.
Not a large doorway, just a panel where there was a shallow, rectangular space. Where there was a medium-sized, light brown trunk. Like the ones in the attic.
"Shit," Clarke mumbled, "You mean that was there, the whole time?"
"Yes," Sylvie laughed, "I know, hard to believe, right?"
Clarke stepped close to where the trunk was, leaned down and grabbed it, pulling it out of the small space it was in.
It was heavier than expected. It clearly had a lot in it or just was built to weigh a lot.
She grabbed the lid of the trunk and tried to lift it, but it didn't budge. "Shit," she repeated, "Needs a key."
Carol went to one of the side bookshelves, pushed it away from the wall, reached behind it and pulled a small key off of a hook on the back of the bookshelf.
Clarke actually stared at Carol and the others with disbelief. "Seriously?" She said, "That's been here the whole time?"
"Indeed it has been" Sylvie chuckled as Carol brought the key over and pushed it into the lock of the trunk, turning the key.
The lock clicked open and the lid of the trunk groaned as it was opened up.
Clarke looked down into the trunk, half expecting to find anything, ranging from more weapons supposedly used to kill vampires, explosions or even a dried up old corpse.
However, what she found instead? Were piles and piles of yellowed paper documents.
She frowned. Loads and loads of paper?
"What are all these documents supposed to be?" She asked.
"Records," Natasha answered, "Records on many family members of yours, and extended family members."
Clarke stared down into the trunk. "What's the importance of these documents?" She asked.
She looked at the vampires for answers.
"Several of them," Helena elaborated, "Carry exchanges between us and your family by letters. Agreements about you eventually being born and being ours when you were of age. There are other documents there. Birth certificates. Amongst other things."
"Right," Clarke said, nodding. She kneeled down and reached into the trunk, pulled out the first document she could find, which was a folded up letter. With a round, dark red wax seal that clearly had been broken. The symbol on the wax seal was of two swords crossing blades and under those blades, was a V-shaped shield, with a skull on it and a sword on the shield, the blade running through the top of the skull.
"Pleasant," Clarke remarked, opening up the flaps of the letter, looking at the words scrawled across the yellowed paper.
Clarke had no idea what language this letter was in, but she understood it easily, as if it always had been written in English.
She read the letter.
The letter said: "To my dear, dear brother, Jean Lavigne, on this most wonderful day for celebration, congratulations on your marriage. Aimee seems like a fine young lady. I hope the two of you are quite happy together. But there's a matter I'm sure you're aware I wish to speak to you about. I am pleased by the protection you have from these strange women, are protectors of Aimee, as well, however, I hope you understand why I feel I've been wronged. I am aware of these women's wealth. I won't hazard a guess as to how they got ahold of such wealth, but I am aware. And they certainly intend to share that wealth with you, as you are to produce a child who eventually will continue the line, till these women have their prize. Whatever that prize might be. I am simply writing to you, in hopes of being included in that wealth, brother. I hope you understand.
"I still love you. I hope you understand that I was not well when we last saw each other at the docks, and I almost assaulted you and your dear wife. I hope the both of you can forgive me. I was drinking and my mind was not well. I deeply hope both of you can forgive me and understand that I love the both of you.
Your dearest brother,
Marcel Lavigne."
Clarke frowned, lifting her head from where she was squinting at the words on the page. She looked at the vampires. "Who the hell was Marcel Lavigne?" She asked.
As soon as she asked that, she realized she may have made a mistake, when she saw the vampires' narrowed eyes.
"That?" Wanda growled, eyes flashing red, "That was Jean Lavigne's older brother. The Lavignes had two children. Two sons. Marcel and Jean. However, Jean was blessed with being your ancestor, so, he was to marry Aimee, and so, have a good portion of our protection and wealth. But Marcel? Someone who already had a good deal of money, and had his share of women who he bedded every chance he got, somehow thought he got to be jealous. It was why he tried to kill Jean and Aimee before they left on the boat to America."
Clarke almost dropped the paper. Okay. That was a wrinkle she hadn't been expecting.
"Where were all of you in all this?" She asked, sure that she sounded rude.
Melina said, smiling grimly, "We weren't guarding your ancestors every second. We had a coven to look after. Had we been there, we would have killed Marcel. But Aimee and Jean got away on the boat. Marcel retreated before the authorities could catch him. And he escaped, left his family, and created his own coat of arms. That symbol you see on the seal that's been broken. As you see in the letter, he tried to ingratiate himself to both Jean and Aimee with that letter, even after he tried to kill them."
Clarke actually laughed. Really? This Marcel Lavigne guy had tried to murder his own brother and his sister-in-law, and then when he was desperate for more money, he actually thought that he could try to get on his brother's good side?
What a joke.
It reminded Clarke a lot of her own mother, Abby.
As soon as Clarke had something she could use against Abby, like the murder of her father, her mother tripped over herself just to try to get Clarke to help her. Pathetic.
"Well, joke's on Marcel," Clarke grumbled, "Jean married Aimee and became successful. And Marcel died without all that money."
At Clarke's words, the vampires stiffened.
As soon as Clarke saw that, she almost groaned.
She predicted the vampires' words, even before they could speak.
"Marcel Lavigne isn't dead, is he?" She grumbled.
Maria, Melina, Dinah and Helena shook their heads.
Clarke sighed, "He's a vampire?"
"He's a vampire," Dinah said bluntly.
Clarke snorted, shaking her head, "Great. So, he's still around."
"We would have killed him," Maria said, "But he found a coven with vampires in the coven as old as us, they sired him, and Marcel has protection to this day."
"Even better," Clarke grumbled, looking back to the letter.
"The Lavigne family," Natasha explained, even before Jean and Aimee Lavigne got into dealing in weapons and other types of crime, were involved in some…underhanded things."
Clarke looked back to the vampires, her right eyebrow arched up. "Like what?" She asked.
"Oh," Melina chuckled, smiling sadly, "Extortion, murder, thievery, some rapes in the past from previous generations. Jean actually was amongst the cleanest of the family, before he and Aimee went to the Americas, to find their fortune-through any means necessary. But his older brother, Marcel? He was different."
"How?" Clarke asked, now very interested as to who this estranged and apparently, twisted family member of hers was.
"We followed the family members of Pierre Dumont's line," Maria began to elaborate, "Not of any Lavigne family member's line, before Jean married Aimee. So, a lot of what we know about Marcel Lavigne? We only know through rumor. But if the rumors were true, which we have reason to believe, since Marcel tried to kill Jean and Aimee at the docks before they left for the Americas, then Marcel was responsible for a great deal of…charnel doings. There was talk of some rapes in the past, and beatings of the women who Marcel supposedly raped. Again, we'd like to remind you, this is only conjecture that we heard."
Clarke nodded, trying not to shiver.
So, Marcel was a piece of shit, if anything that these vampires had heard about him, was true.
And he was still around, as a vampire.
Great.
"What are the chances that I'll run into Marcel Lavigne?" She asked the vampires, knowing this was rather important.
"As of right now?" Mari said, "Low. There's no reason for you to run into them now. But when we turn you into a vampire, you will see many different vampire covens, and that will include Marcel's coven. Which means you will likely meet him then, at some point."
Clarke nodded, teeth grinding.
She was frustrated at that. Not because she had heard she might meet her potentially murderous and potentially rapist great-great, several greats uncle, but because these vampires clearly were still bent on turning her into a vampire.
Not that she had doubted that they had changed their decision, but still…
She half thought of asking if they really were going to make her into a vampire, even against her will.
But she knew the answer to that already.
She had gone down that road already. And she knew what their decision was.
So, she might as well just look more into the trunk.
The vampires had shown it to her, for a reason. So, she decided to make herself busy with that.
She looked away from the vampires, and placed Marcel's letter on top of the other piles of papers, and kneeled down, deciding to distract herself with other things at the moment.
She started looking through more papers, then finding a new document that looked interesting.
If the words that were translated into English for her by the magic of this house was anything to go by, from what Clarke read, was a will of some sort.
She inspected the ill, trying not to think at all about what the vampires had done to Manchester, or that they were planning on turning her into a vampire. Even if it was against her will. Or that they had murdered Hugo Lavigne's son, Andre, a child, to get their way.
Author's note
I'll be honest, I didn't really know what to do with this chapter. As you saw, I changed the whole Westview thing drastically. Made it more "pod people" than anything. But if anyone's curious, yes, Marcel Lavigne will make an appearance at some point.