The Beautiful and the Faultless | Cami O'Connell

Chapter 4

They made themselves invisible only temporarily.

The two men walked in slowly, noticing that no one appeared to be inside. The acolytes were waiting in the wings, and the two witches were hiding in plain sight.

"Well?" asked Klaus loudly. "What are you waiting for, you crone?"

Dahlia made them visible. "Now that you've arrived," she said as the two women looked down at them from the sacristy. "Not a thing!"

Both men glared at them. Mikael was holding the spelled knife, and his grip seemed to tighten as he waited for them to make their move. Dahlia held up her hands, and the acolytes burst into the main hall, surrounding them.

"Let us begin," said Dahlia smoothly.

Mikael and Klaus surveyed the group. Apparently, this didn't threaten them. "We are well-met," said Mikael with a dark chuckle. "Are you ready?"

Klaus smirked. "I was born ready."

They lunged at the acolytes. Many died unnecessarily in the first few seconds, their heads chopped off, necks broken, some tossed across the room with such force that their spinal cords were severed upon impact.

And then, Ingrid lifted her hands.

Three of the acolytes linked hands, causing Mikael and Klaus to fly into the wall, being pinned to it. One woman made a fist, and Klaus let out a grunt, his face contorting in pain as the woman started to create aneurysms in his brain, over and over again. Another acolyte did the same to Mikael, who wasn't any more resistant to the pain.

At last, the third acolyte lifted the spell, allowing the men to crumple to the floor, gasping for air and trying to recover.

"Ah, I should have warned you," said Dahlia with a patronizing smile. "My acolytes are rather formidable."

"They've been given but a fraction of our power," said Ingrid, eyes glittering darkly as she watched the men force themselves to their feet. "And though the intention was to level the playing field... it seems you've already been bested."

A different acolyte held up their hand, and Mikael was thrown back into a pew, effectively breaking it into pieces. When Klaus tried to lunge at the two witches, another acolyte used it to throw him into the balcony, smashing him into the railing before slamming him down onto the ground.

It was amusing, watching how hard they fought. Despite already feeling sore, they both got back up, and started attacking other acolytes. Some were actually not fast enough to react. Others were torn to shreds because it seemed the Originals' emotions were enough to strengthen them. But at the same time, Dahlia and Ingrid had lifted their spell. They were watching, waiting. Seeing as blood flew everywhere and the acolytes were reduced to unrecognizable husks by the two snarling men.

"All this yelling," said Ingrid, seating herself at the altar and letting her legs dangle from it. "The war cries. Do you not feel strong unless you do it?"

In response, both sort of growled (or roared, Ingrid wasn't sure how to classify the strange sound Klaus made) and shared a triumphant look as the last acolyte fell to the ground. They began walking toward the witches, which caused Dahlia to clap slowly. Dramatically. Mockingly.

"Quite the operatic performance!" she said. "Though, that is the thing with these grand tragedies. In the end, all the heroes..." she clenched her hand into a fist, "die."

She tried to pull them further forward, but surprisingly, the two started to resist. The knife clattered out of Mikael's hand, and suddenly, desiccated grey veins rose over their skin as they fell to the floor, yelling out in pain. Klaus and Mikael tried their hardest to crawl forward, despite their bodies losing strength faster and faster with each passing second.