Fated Love |•| Klaus Mikaelson

016. My Friend The Darkness

Flashback

Wren found herself leaning heavily against the cold, clammy wall, the chill seeping through her thin clothing and into her bones. It was a familiar ritual, this act of pressing herself against the damp surface, taking slow, deliberate breaths to steady her racing heart and calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. 

In the dim light filtering through the small, barred window high above, she could just make out the outlines of the familiar rusty chains that bound her wrists, anchoring her to the unforgiving stone.

She had learned over time that this technique often proved beneficial when things became too much for her to handle. It was a moment of respite amidst the chaos of her existence, a fleeting moment of clarity that allowed her to gather her thoughts and summon the strength to face whatever trials lay ahead.

Once she felt her pulse begin to slow and her mind regained its focus, Wren straightened up, her movements slow and deliberate as she tested the limits of her confinement. She would flex her muscles, feeling the strain of the chains pulling taut against her skin, and survey her surroundings with a newfound sense of determination. There had to be a way out of this prison, a dent in the armour of her father's cruel design that she could exploit to win her freedom.

But finding that way out was easier said than done. Wren's father, in his twisted desire to control every aspect of her life, had taken great pains to ensure that nothing within arm's reach could aid in her escape. 

The walls of her prison were bare and featureless, they had a lack of any tools or objects that she could use to break free. The chains that bound her were thick and sturdy, their links welded together with an ironclad grip that defied her every attempt to break them.

So she was left with no choice but to bide her time, to wait for the moment when her father's guard was down and she could make her move. It was a game of patience and strategy, a battle of wills between captor and captive that played out in the silent, suffocating confines of her cell.

All the while, she could feel her father's presence lurking just beyond the walls, his heavy footsteps echoing through the cabin as he went about his daily routines. There was a primal fear that gripped her heart whenever she heard him approaching, a sense of dread that threatened to consume her every waking moment.

His presence was unmistakable; it was always the same stomping boots and a deep voice that haunted her, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurked just beyond her reach. She could sense the anger and cruelty that simmered beneath his calm exterior, could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on her like a suffocating blanket.

And yet, there were moments when she found herself strangely comforted by his presence when the sound of his voice echoing through the walls of her prison offered a twisted sense of solace amidst the chaos of her existence. It was a sickening realization, to find comfort in the arms of her tormentor, but in those moments of despair, any shred of human connection was better than the crushing loneliness that threatened to consume her soul.

Just then, she was startled by the familiar sound of her father's voice echoing through the cabin, his words dripping with venom. "Do you know why I do this to you?" he spat, his voice laced with contempt as he stared down at her with cold, calculating eyes.

Wren could feel the bile rising in her throat at the sight of him, could feel the anger and resentment bubbling beneath the surface as she struggled to maintain her composure. But she knew better than to give in to her emotions, knew that any sign of weakness would only fuel her father's sadistic tendencies.