𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐀 ⚜️ E.MIKAELSON

[ The Door ]

CHAPTER 43
[ New Orleans, 2012 ]

Elijah had no idea where he was, he had no thoughts whatsoever, only a taste for blood. He charged after a girl - her long, wavy brown hair flowing frantically as she ran for safety toward a red door. He was shirtless, covered from head to toe in blood, he could hear her whimpers and cries as she desperately threw herself into the door in a bid to open it. He inched closer, slower than before - stalking his prey. The girl turned to him, a part of Elijah recognised her instantly but not the part of him that was in control. Georgia peered up at him, fear and pure desperation swimming in her virescent eyes.

She shook her head frantically as he grew closer, tears streaming down her face as she banged on the door once again. He grabbed her by the arm, and when she turned, she wore a different face. Tatia stood before him and this time he wasted no time in tearing into her.

He awoke in a panic, drenched in sweat and dressed in his ripped and bloodied shirt from the night before. His wrists were bound by chains that hung from the ceiling. He attempted to release himself but they failed to give way. His mother, wearing the skin of Lenore, stepped into the crypt as she calmly sipped on a cup of tea.

"Having sweet dreams?" She smirked, cocking her head. He lunged for her, the restraints holding him back from reaching her.

"Get out of my head." He growled, his stare harbouring pure hatred.

"I'm not in your head, dear. You were screaming." His stare didn't falter but Esther seemed unfazed. "Go ahead, get your bearings. We have much to discuss."

"Who were you dreaming about ripping apart when you woke? Was it your new little plaything, Georgia? Or, was it someone else?" She smirked, watching as he lunged for her once more.

"Oh, stop fighting, Elijah! I brought you here to listen, and you're not going anywhere until I've said my piece." She sighed, placing her cup down upon the table in the centre of the crypt.

"So speak."

"I want you to rejoin our family, but as a witch. I want you to leave behind the grotesque savage vampirism has made of you. Take the body of a mortal, and we can all be happy again. Start over." She smiled wickedly, her voice so light and airy but her intentions sinister.

Elijah rolled his eyes at her suggestion. "You do know you're entirely demented, don't you?"

"Am I? I'm not the one who pulls the wings off of every beautiful butterfly that he finds." She smirked, raising an eyebrow as he struggled against his chains. "Like the woman who flits across the edge of your nightmare."

Dark veins appeared beneath his eyes. "Let me go. Now."

"Hmm. How quickly you slip back into your more savage self." His face fell, the veins dissipating as he now appeared more ashamed than furious. "The moral son I raised is now but a mask worn to hide ancient demons."

Elijah scoffed, shaking his head. "You know nothing."

"See, that's where you're wrong. I know more about the secrets you carry than you do. Shall I list them? I can begin with the first little butterfly you destroyed" his face grew pale, he turned from her as he refused to look her in the eye.

"The sweet young widow from our village who caught your eye when you were still human." He shifted uncomfortably as Esther simply smirked in satisfaction. "Ah, you remember her. Of course. How could you forget the first girl to ever steal your heart? She of mystical blood, the doppelgänger, Tatia."

"I did nothing but love that woman until the day you took her life." He turned to look at his mother once again, his voice numb and eyes cold.

"I know that's what you believe... which is precisely why you are here." She lifted a candle from the workbench, holding it in-front of his face.