Their Hope

Chapter Seventeen

Weakened by the painite in her lungs and the power drains she had been having, Rieka was barely conscious as two people, probably witches, drag her into St. Ann's church as she sobs. Genevieve and Monique behind them with Hayley, Rieka was now glad she linked their lives so Hayley couldn't die, was unconscience. She was having horrendous pain in her lower half, she knows she's in labor from the painite.

She knew what was happening and did the thing she never thought she would. Begged. "Please, No. Stop it."

The person she loves most, that isn't immortal, isn't even born yet and they're trying to sacrifice her. She whimpers at the thought of her baby's death. She faintly hears the witches tailing behind her. "Get her down on the floor!"

"We should take her to The City of The Dead."

Genevieve denies. "We won't make it. The baby is coming now."

The witches lay her down on the stairs but she fights them. "No. It's too soon for this! Don't touch her, you stupid witches! AHHH!"

After her scream stops, Genevieve pipes in. "Apparently not."

She zoned them out trying to have hope someone would help her, the baby, she fights them and then groans. "AHHH! Let me go!"

Genevieve sits by her as she speaks to her. "You need to be calm, Rieka."

Her whimpering voice cracks from the fear, sadness, and anger, also from yelling and shouting. She tried using strength and magic, nothing was working. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Genevieve hates it, and herself, Rieka could see the self-loathing in her eyes it's by the pity. She feels horrible but wants to live more than that. Rieka doesn't care how much she hates it, she'll gladly kill the witch with any chance she had. The youngest witch present speaks up. "To be reborn, we must sacrifice."

"What the hell does that have to do with me, my child, or Hayley, you psychotic, little bitch," She yells as she starts hitting them with all the fight she has.

"The ancestors demand an offering in exchange for power," The red-head tells.

Rieka starts piecing it together as Monique adds on. "And your child will be a fine offering."

"No," She panics and shakes her head. "No," She yells then grabs them by the throat. "Do not take my baby! I will kill all of your families as you watch then you!"

"No," Monique denies. "You won't, and neither will Klaus, Elijah, or Javen. When your baby is born, we will offer it up to those who came before us."

She starts whimpering in fear for her most loved one's life, her unborn child's life. Call her weak for it but she'd gladly beg and plea then let her daughter die.

She doesn't care if she lives or dies, just her baby. She and Klaus' baby, the one they moth love with all of them. The sadness turns to rage and she screams. She wacks Monique in the face, making the witch fall back only for another to take her place holding her.

"I'm sorry, Rieka," The red-headed witch tells. "But this is the way it had to be."

"No," She wails out. "No! NO! NOOOO! AHHHHHH!"

She fights as hard as possible, so hard they blow more powder in her face but she wills herself to stay awake. But it doesn't work, she gasps and fights until her mind takes her into a blissful memory, right when she and Klaus made up and were in an awkward place, to heal her from the mental and physical pain.

She sits in the rocking chair Klaus got in the nursery as she writes, cross-legged, feet on a small stool, and rocking as she writes, or doodles as she thinks what to write.