LOST BOY | HOPE MIKAELSON

00.13: Shadows of the Past

In the dimly lit confines of his room, Dan sat hunched over his desk, a lone figure amidst a sea of scattered papers and notebooks. His pen scratched furiously against the paper, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

Memories—fragmented, disjointed—swirled in his mind like a relentless storm, each one vying for his attention, clamoring to be heard. He wrote frantically, trying to make sense of the chaos that threatened to consume him whole.

The memories came in flashes—a blur of faces, places, and events—each one a piece of a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. He remembered his coven, the moonlit rituals beneath the night sky, the power coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

Different faces of people appeared in his mind, from his family to the Mikaelson family, to Hayley, and then there was Hope. The baby Hope appeared on his mind, the one that held his hand with her tiny little fingers and the nine years old Hope who smiled and played with him and then the fifteen year old girl that he had deep conversations with about the unfairness of this world and how she didn't want to be a cosmic mistake.

Above all else, she was there in his mind but, he also had the lingering harsh truth that he hated to accept. He was like this because of her.

Because alongside the bittersweet memories of his past, there were others, there were scars — dark, haunting images that sent shivers down his spine. The night his coven was slaughtered, the blood staining the forest floor, the screams echoing in his ears like a cruel symphony of death.

He paused, his hand trembling as he tried to push the memories away, to bury them beneath a veil of denial. But they lingered, stubborn and unyielding, refusing to be ignored.

With a frustrated sigh, Dan pushed himself away from the desk, his chest tight with emotion. He couldn't focus, he was getting too stressed and needed to gather himself. A walk around the school yard will do. He just had to make sense of the jumble of memories clouding his mind.

Stepping outside towards the school yard, he didn't realize that he spent ten hours in his room trying to make sense of his memories. He sighed as he walked around, trying to calm his panicked heart and mind. He heard the laughters of the kids and the talks of the teens, it was enjoyable to see them enjoying themselves however it didn't register in him.

The night draped the school in a shroud of darkness, casting elongated shadows across the deserted courtyard. Dan wandered aimlessly, his footsteps echoing in the silence as he grappled with the weight of his memories.

The weight of Dan's newfound memories pressed down on him like an invisible burden, each revelation adding to the turmoil raging within him. As he walked away from the courtyard, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his insides.

Memories of his past life as Arne, the gruesome slaughter of his coven by Elijah Mikaelson, and the conflicting
emotions he felt towards Hope Mikaelson swirled around in his mind like a whirlwind. He needed time to sort through his thoughts, to come to terms with the truths he had uncovered.

As he walked, fragments of his past flickered in his mind like shards of broken glass, cutting deep into his consciousness. The pain was palpable, a constant reminder of the horrors he had witnessed and the secrets he had uncovered.

His steps faltered, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he sank to his knees, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions crashing over him. Tears stung his eyes as he clutched his head, trying in vain to silence the cacophony of voices echoing in his mind.

"Dan!" A voice called out to him, cutting through the darkness like a beacon of light. It was Hope, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the moon overhead.