IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIRD PERSON POV
CHAPTER 16
The barn massacre left a heavy silence in its wake, punctuated only by Beth's piercing cry as she threw herself over Annette's body. Hope, standing near the edge of the chaos, spotted the sudden movement.
"Beth, no!" Hope shouted, sprinting toward her, but it was too late. Annette's reanimated corpse lunged for her daughter.
Before Hope could intervene, Andrea moved swiftly, bringing the scythe down with grim precision. The blade sank into Annette's skull, and the walker collapsed, lifeless. Hope reached Beth, pulling her away from the carnage as the girl sobbed uncontrollably.
"She's gone," Hope murmured, holding Beth firmly. "You have to let her go."
As the Greene family trudged back to the house, Hershel's fury erupted. His voice carried across the yard, sharp and angry.
"This is what your group brings, Rick—death and destruction! You killed my wife again today!" Hershel's voice broke, but his anger did not waver. "Pack your things and leave. All of you."
Rick stepped forward, trying to reason with him. "Hershel, we're sorry! We thought—"
"You thought?" Hershel cut him off. "You brought this chaos to my doorstep. I gave you a place to stay, and this is how you repay me? With bloodshed?"
Hope stood a few feet behind Rick, her arms crossed. "And what were you going to do, Hershel? Keep feeding them, praying for a miracle that was never coming?"
Hershel's glare snapped to her. "You think I wanted this? You think I enjoyed holding on to hope when there was none?"
Hope's eyes softened, but her voice remained steady. "No, I don't. But we didn't come here to destroy your family. We came here because we're trying to survive, just like you."
As Hershel stormed back to the house, Shane approached Rick, his face twisted with frustration.
"Nice job, Rick," Shane sneered. "Real diplomatic. All this walking on eggshells with Hershel, and for what? So he can kick us out?"
Rick turned to face Shane, his jaw tight. "You think this is helping? Running your mouth like this? You just made everything worse with your little stunt at the barn."
"Worse?" Shane scoffed, gesturing toward the house. "I saved lives today, Rick! While you were busy kissing Hershel's ass, I made sure we didn't get eaten in our sleep."
Hope stepped between them, her voice sharp. "Both of you, stop it. This isn't helping anyone."
Shane glared at her but backed off, muttering under his breath as he walked away. Rick ran a hand through his hair, his exhaustion evident.
Rick stood there, watching Shane walk off, still muttering under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of leadership pressing down on him. The group was unraveling in ways he hadn't expected, and the constant tension was eating away at him.