Camille Mikaelsons life is very far from normal
born from transfer spells,magic from the ancestors,and more, Camille Henrika Mikaelson is the magical mystery baby of Kol Mikaelson and Davina Claire, raised right along side Hope, it's now her turn to...
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Camille opened her eyes to see bright stage lights beaming on a stage, as she was sat in a red cushioned seat.
"Finally,you made it!" The necromancer spoke up as she looked over to see him sitting right next to her,causing her to jump.
"I'm surprised it worked, I was sure it wasn't but, i guess here's to tempting fate" He lifted his drink up, as Camille stood up out of her seat,irritated.
"What the hell are we doing here?where's Hope ?" She spat as she glared at the man,him tilting his head.
"You invited yourself along-"
"No i mean here. This is the playhouse, i spent half of my life in this place" Camille said as she looked around the place. She hadn't been here since her aunt Hayley passed. She used to come out to San Francisco with her and Davina and go and watch the plays.
"Ahh yes, the San Francisco Playhouse, i had a good time here in the 1800s, your father and uncle actually were actually very good for my business, always killing people" He placed his drink up to his lips as he drunk from the cup,what she assumed to be, alcohol.
"Do not speak of what you don't know, you don't know anything about my father or uncle" Camille said in defense, a slight chuckle coming from the necromancer.
"I do know that your father is standing behind you" This caused Camille to turn around quickly, only to be faced with nothing, as she heard the man laughing.
"That was a good laugh, I got your cousin Hope with the same joke, she wasn't quite happy about it" He shrugged his shoulders, an innocent look on his face.
"But back on track, I know the real reason you came on this journey. You don't care shout Malivore, or how your parents are, you want to know how he is, or matter of fact, where he is"
Camille put her head down,as she knew exactly who he was talking about. The human boy who she once loved,who died at her very hands.
"No,no I don't care about him, I moved on, he doesn't matter" She muttered in defense,fidgeting with her rings that sat on her hand.
"Oh sure he does, you want to know if he's at peace or if he's suffering, because you regret what you did to him,after all,it was you,your anger and magic that caused his death,but then again, he was only trying to sacrifice himself for you,but you didn't want that, did you?" Camille stood quiet. Suddenly, people began to fill into the theater,the curtains closing.
"Ah it's time for the play, now remember this is my conscious,so anything in the play could be a door to my subconscious, a door, stairs,anything,now let's get seated" Camille scoffed as she sat down next to the necromancer.
The music played loudly as the curtains rolled back, to see people dancing around what looked like a coffin. Their medieval ball gowns twirled around as men from the 1800s spun them around.
