LUST~NIKLAUS MIKAELSON(book 1)

Chapter 25 Here lies Bonnie Bennett

The grand hall, once a vibrant hub of festivity, now stood shrouded in a somber silence. The laughter and music that had filled the space earlier had vanished, replaced by an oppressive stillness. Guests had long departed, their absence only amplifying the gravity of what was about to unfold.

The opulence of the evening’s celebration seemed a cruel contrast to the darkness that now enveloped the hall. Glittering chandeliers hung above, casting flickering light on the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls. It had been a night of joy, a night meant to mark a new beginning for the Mikaelson family. But now, that joy felt like a distant memory, eclipsed by the cold reality of what was about to transpire.

Mikael, their father, strode into the hall with an air of grim determination. His presence, imposing and authoritative, immediately commanded attention. His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept across the room, taking in the scene before him. For a moment, his gaze softened as it fell upon his children—Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah, and the others—each lost in the remnants of the evening’s revelry.

“Father!” Rebekah exclaimed, surprise and relief in her voice. “Where have you been? We were worried—”

But Mikael’s expression remained cold, unyielding. He offered no explanation, no reassurance. Instead, he moved with deliberate purpose, his footsteps echoing ominously in the vast space. The siblings exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the undercurrent of something dark and foreboding.

Klaus narrowed his eyes, suspicion flaring in his gaze. “What’s going on, Father? Why do you look as if you’re about to go to war? Its my wedding day.” Klaus said joking lying as he started to approach his father.

Mikael paused, his hand resting on the large double doors of the grand hall. Without a word, he turned the key in the lock, sealing them inside. The sound of the lock clicking into place resonated through the room, a finality that sent a shiver down the spine of everyone present.

“Father, what are you doing?” Elijah’s voice was tense, his instincts telling him that something was terribly wrong.

Mikael turned to face his children, his expression dark and resolute. “This celebration… is a farce. A prelude to the cleansing that must occur. Tonight, we make ourselves strong, immortal.”

Before anyone could react, Mikael drew his sword, the blade gleaming wickedly in the dim light. The siblings’ eyes widened in shock and horror as the reality of their situation began to sink in.

“No,” Klaus whispered, a mix of disbelief and dread in his voice. “Father, don’t do this.”

But Mikael’s resolve was unshakable. His sword flashed in the air, the blade cutting through the stillness with lethal precision. The once-festive hall, adorned with symbols of joy and prosperity, became a nightmare as the violence began.

Mikael’s attack was swift and brutal, each swing of his sword met with cries of pain and anguish. The siblings, caught off guard, were powerless to stop the onslaught. Their bodies, once filled with life, fell to the floor one by one, the life draining from them as they succumbed to the deadly wounds inflicted by their own father.

The vibrant decorations that had once celebrated the joy of the evening were now tainted with blood, their colors darkened by the violence. The grand hall, which had been a place of gathering and celebration, was transformed into a gruesome tableau of betrayal and suffering.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched, immobilized by the sheer horror of the scene. Every attempt to move or intervene was thwarted by the weight of the unfolding tragedy. I could feel my magic, usually so strong and reliable, slipping away, rendered useless in the face of Mikael’s dark power.