𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, kai parker

49 from a cradle to a grave

The world stops turning on its axis at the sound. Every noise, every creature, every move, freezes. Like the entirety of the universe has been captivated by ice. The urge to just move, but the curiosity to listen trumps that urge. Everything that you know and love, freezes at the sound.

The sound of a baby cry.

The cries of new life echo out of the church building. Her mother and father stare at her with softened eyes, knowing that she is the absolute most beautiful thing in the world.

Klaus still is pressed against the wall, higher than the witches who surround his daughter and her mother. Hayley holds her miracle gently in her hands. She wistfully smiles at the baby.

But that moment of joy ends as Monique slices Hayley's neck. Dark crimson pours from the wound, the hybrid gasps in shock at her death. The three witches snatch the baby from her mother's cold dead hands.
As he begins to scream while the three witches leave, a simple spell snaps his neck. He falls to the ground temporarily dead, right beside the mother of his child.

The church doors shut and the entire building is quiet. No church mice dare squeak, no floors groan under the simple movement of wind. Nothing moves. Not until the doors barge open unexpectedly. Thick gray clouds pour onto the ground, pooling around the furniture.

The putrid fog of death rolls around the room in simple coils. Slowly but surely making its way to the two corpses. Its thick hands creep to Klaus' body, sighing in distaste at the lack of a human soul to take.

"It is not his time," it slowly hisses and shuffles its way up the table. Once again, Klaus Mikaelson has escaped death's clutches. Simply unsatisfied, death's horrid fog touches the cool skin of the female werewolf.

Dried blood coats her neck and legs. Her body lay contorted into an unhuman-like matter. The fog clicks its tongue in sadness at the wolf. It hates the death of those who had much more to live for. The fog covers her body to take her soul, to carry her on into another form of life.

But as it dips its hands to take her, it is blocked by a simple thing that the baby left. Her blood.

Death sighs once again and rolls off of the werewolf. Its thick gray coils trail off the table and back to the floor once again. The fog dissipates from the church and back to the streets of New Orleans. Not before muttering a sentence that echoes throughout the church.

"It is not her time."

•••••

Elijah and Evanora Mikaelson run through the streets of New Orleans. Werewolf venom courses through their veins, but both don't care. The two most put together Originals stumble down the paved road. Both are bloody and unkempt from their attack.

The blonde prays silently to anyone that Hayley is okay. She hasn't been the best of friends to the werewolf, but she hates to know she is in danger. She knows how much the girl means to her brother. Not to mention the baby.

Her life has been a string of bad events overshadowing each other. The werewolf attack doesn't mean anything to her after she discovered that Hayley was taken. Evanora's cold dead heart dropped to her stomach and suffered to come back up. It drowned in fear and suffocated in sadness.

Werewolf venom laced her judgment with mixed emotions. She wasn't completely understanding why her brother was so upset. Her mind was on the fact that she was right about Francesca. Davina thankfully was able to snap Evanora out of her trance as Elijah was leaving her.

She scrambled to keep up with him and hurried out of the Abattoir. 

Now she and her older brother pant as they continue to run to the church. Neither speak but both know what the other is thinking: they are too late. A fear that has crawled into both their minds and died.