❝ not yet corpses, yet we
rot❞
Henrik Mikaelson was once the catalyst of the beginning of vampires; the reckoning and the doom of their family bonds, fragile as they were. The once most beloved son and brother of one of the dangerous families...
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Diana Richards had named him Felix.
When a six year old Felix asked why, she had just shrugged and said, "you were my lucky miracle. It was fitting when I saw you in your grandfather's arms. I know you will be someone special, if you were like your daddy."
Whether his mom intended it or not; those words haunted him for the rest of his life.
****
Felix Richards had strange dreams ever since he could remember.
Dreams where he chased animals around with his arrow and bows or of ferocious wolves with wide jaws of death who twisted and turned and jumped onto him.
His shrieks of terror was only dwarfed by another boy's terrified screams.
In his dreams, he was so little, so small but made up with a heart bigger than the small world he knew. He wasn't Felix, the miracle child, no but simple Henrik, the youngest boy and the darling of his family.
He was the reason for his parent's smile and the main culprit in whatever shenanigans his sister cooked up. He was the curious one who was humoured by his elder brothers. He was the one who clung into Nik while their father gave him cold shoulder, with their family uneasily following the suit.
They were good dreams. The best he had in his twenty seven years of life.
In the beginning, Felix didn't mind his dreams. And nobody else did too; they were just musings of a tiny child, growing and wondering about the world.
Until it changed, slowly but gradually. Happy, indulgent smiles turned strain, pride turned into worry. Felix was many things, but stupid was not one of them.
'Creative boy, he'll go far!' went to the accursed word.
Freak.
The most fond nickname his brother had given to Felix became his villain along with the shadows of dreams he didn't understand.
Felix Richards was meant to be a prosperous, happy child. He was to an extent until the dreams.
He couldn't grasp that beautiful things have ugly sides too. Until the wolves and the raging nightmares of red, yellow and blue.
