Ripped Apart ~The Originals

2

The Mikaelsons had been shocked by the continuous string of gruesome murders that began to plague their city. In the last week, six different groups of bodies were found out in the open. And each of them had the makings of a ripper.

Klaus sent all of his men as well as Marcel's to search the city during the nights in hopes of finding the rogue vampire before they could raise any unwanted suspicion but, much to Klaus's dismay, the Ripper was always ten steps ahead...

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Kinglsey Morris. A beautiful girl with an ugly secret. A girl plagued to live forever or until someone finally drove a stake through her heart, but she would never let that happen. She is a girl without emotion, and that's what makes her dangerous.

She didn't care much for blood bags or fuzzy animals. No, a sick twisted part of her cared for the chase. The moment she stepped foot into New Orleans, she felt like a kid in a candy store. She couldn't wait to paint the town red and leave before anyone even noticed her.

The only problem she had found in her genius plan was a particular family that seemed to rule the city. Kingsley took notice of the vampires who would show up at the gruesome scenes she left, and she watched from the shadows as they spoke about the Ripper in their town. Now, she had to be a bit more careful and keep her meals random and in wildly different locations around the city.

"I'll take a coffee and...an order of beignets, thanks." The curly-haired brunette said, addressing the barista in front of her.

On this particular day, she had a sweet tooth that she couldn't seem to avoid, and for whatever reason, beignets felt like home to her. Not that she knew what a "home" was. She never stayed in one place for too long; firstly, because she didn't want to get attached, and secondly, because of her "special" eating habits. After a painfully boring wait, Kinglsey took her order, made her way out of the cafe, and strutted down the street. The jazz-filled city was busy as always, and Kinglsey took note of a figure who stood above it all. Looking to her left, she noticed a man standing on a balcony sipping on a glass of bourbon. He had a powerful atmosphere to him as he looked down on the people as if he was king of the city. He also seemed painfully familiar. She made a note to look out for him in the future and continued her journey through the Quarter.

Kinglsey soon found herself in a rather entertaining part of the city. all around were street performers and various booths with different trinkets for sale. After some time looking at what the vendors had to offer, she found herself standing near a small group as they listened to a young girl play the violin. As she stood among the crowd listening to the sweet sound and observing those around her, she noticed a man that stood out from the others. He wore a crisp suit, not a single wrinkle or crease in sight. His hair slicked back into place. He looked intelligent and noble as he stood amongst the crowd. But Kinglsey also noticed his eyes. The way they reacted to the tune of the girls' violin. They held the slightest hint of pain. Almost as if he had lost someone and the song was a painful memory.

Upon the conclusion of the girl's performance, the crowd clapped and honored her with tips. The man Kingsley had been watching put a few dollars in the girls' hat and said some kind words to her before turning around to leave. It was then that Kingsley got a good look at him. As she looked him up and down, assessing him and his character, he also noticed her. A mixture of emotions undecipherable to Kingsley flickered through the man's eyes as he looked at her. Kingsley couldn't stand long stares, as they had a higher likely hood of someone remembering her face. So, she casually took a sip of her coffee and continued her journey through the city.

As she walked, she thought about the man. He had the same painful familiarity that the man on the balcony did. It wasn't often that Kingsley found herself threatened, but something about the two felt familiar. That made them a threat to her; the past was something that she couldn't quite piece together. It was a blurry and jumbled mess.

And she prefers to keep it that way...