ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ⇴ ᴛᴠᴅ ² ✓

forty five

Her eyes flashed open, pupils dilated as far as they could, trying to pick up the tiniest morsel of light from her surroundings. Her breathing was heavy, panicked, laboured. Where was she? 

Sitting up to try figure it out, Harper smashed her head painfully against hard wood, the sudden collision making small pieces of dirt fall through the slits and onto her chest. She coughed as some got in her nose, sneezing quietly.

Her heart was steadily beginning to race, realising that something was terribly wrong. "Hello?" She croaked out, unsuccessfully clearing her throat of the strain. "Is anyone there?" Billie's voice broke slightly as she was on the verge of tears.

Completely overwhelmed, with no idea where she was. The air felt heavy and thin at the same time. It was dark. She couldn't see a single thing, not even her own hands when she held them an inch from her face.

The only thing stopping the terrified clairvoyant from hyperventilating was the horror filled realisation that the oxygen in her confinement was slowly but surely beginning to run low.

Tears of fear and frustration barrelled down her cheeks and into her hair and ears, furthering her discomfort. She grunted out in hysteria, banging hard on the wood above her, yelling as loud as she could. "I need help! Is anyone there?"

The action only caused more dirt to fall over her and into her wide open eyes and mouth. She yelped in pain when her hand caught on the loosened, sharp edge of a nail poking out of the wood. "Son of a bitch!" She cradled her hand for a quiet moment, collecting her thoughts, startled slightly by the drop of blood onto the wood beside her head from the nail.

She was buried. Somebody had buried her alive.

Billie tried to calm herself down and get it together, focusing deeply on keeping her breaths slow and shallow to use as little air as possible. 

Why would Rebekah do this? As far as Billie could remember, she hadn't done anything to upset her lately, or ever for that matter.

Had she turned off her humanity? No, that couldn't be right. Billie recalled Klaus telling her that the longer a vampire lived, the more difficult it was to switch off their emotions. For originals, it was practically impossible.

The thought that she could have been possessed crossed her mind, but who in their right mind would possess an original? Setting aside the fact that it would take a ridiculously strong witch to do it, the feat itself was suicidal at the very least. 

Patting herself down quickly, Billie cried out in relief as her hands found her phone in her pocket. Switching it on, she was immediately blinded by the bright light, quickly turning the brightness down.

She opened her contacts, pressing Klaus' number, knowing that this was something that directly affected him and put the speaker to her ear. 

The hope that had blossomed in her stomach was shot down and sank when the dial tones were interrupted and long, arduous beeps took their place. Pulling the phone away, she squinted at the screen and the small 'no service' text.

"No, no no no." She muttered to herself, anxiety pulsing through her blood as she slammed her elbow into the wood above in anger, showered in little dirt particles as a result. "Shit!"

Sitting quietly with herself, chest rising and falling heavily before she calmed it down, Billie ran her hands down her face hopelessly, noticing for the first time the absence of any and all clairvoyance.

She felt abandoned, even by the curse that had plagued her for years. Her chest heaved, unable to catch the oxygen from the air. The tears scurried desperately. Did that mean she would never get out?