The Howling ▹ Klaus Mikaelson

10.

THE HOWLING.

     10. CHAPTER TEN : cruelty drifted up in all the cracks of her like spring snow (n.e)

     She was beginning to dissociate. She felt grey; numb. It didn't come out of nowhere, it'd been coming from a while. Maybe it was the dream she'd had the night before. She was running in a yard, parents on the porch, and brother chasing after her; everything was normal. It was a good dream, too good, and it had her wondering if a vampire had gotten inside her head. But she remembered the vervain that flowed in with her blood, and she shook the thought away. She didn't feel like anything was real. Maybe she was in a coma, having a crazy dream. Maybe her mom and dad were by her bedside, and maybe Mason was sitting in one of the chairs, maybe Tyler was pacing.

The ceiling looked like it was moving closer, or maybe she was floating, and the walls had began to close in, maybe she was growing. Everything seemed distorted, like she was looking in a carnival mirror. Finally, Rowan closed her eyes before the sound of the doorbell echoed through her home.

"Mom!" she shouted, opening her eyes and blinking. "Get the door."

Rowan could hear her mother's heel click against the heels until the sound stopped and the door opened and shut.

"Rowan, come down here," Carol called from downstairs. Begrudgingly, Rowan threw the thin blankets off of her, walked out of her room and down the stairs. She was met with a box being handed to her.

"The hell is this?" Rowan grumbled, obviously not to keen with the smile of her mom's face. Placing the box on the small table in the foyer, Rowan took of the lid, revealing a stunning dark gown, christened with small sequins making it sparkle, beaded across the neckline with a unique design, and the back was the same. She couldn't deny it was it was absolutely beautiful as she carefully stowed it back into the box and picked up the envelope that came with it.

"Mikaelson Ball," she skimmed over the invite before looking to her mother, "who are the Mikaelsons?"

"My guess: the Originals you and your friends are so adamant on killing."

Rowan rolled her eyes. "We only want one of them dead. The rest would be a great plus though." She closed the envelope and tossed it on top of the table. "Damon called earlier. Apparently Klaus' mother was in the coffin."

"Didn't Klaus kill her?" Carol asked. The two of the walked into the kitchen.

"I don't think that even matters anymore." Rowan reached into one of the cabinets for a cinnamon roll, but it was slapped away. "Why - why would you do that?"

Her mother's face stayed stoic, aside from one raised eyebrow. "If there's a ball tonight, you cannot eat that. Here -" Carol pulled a small granola bar out of the cabinet, "eat that."

"I'm a werewolf," Rowan deadpanned, "I'd have to eat, like, two hundred cinnamon rolls for it to affect me."

Carol only shrugged as she walked out, carrying the box of sweets with her. Grumbling, Rowan walked over to freezer. She sifted through the majority of frozen vegetable and Lean Cuisines until she saw the yellow box of Eggos. Peeking around, she opened it, and microwaved the chocolate chip waffles until they were warm and fluffy.

Popping a torn off piece in her mouth, Rowan began her way back upstairs, passing the box and invite on her way when she stopped. Scrawled across the back of the card stock paper was a handwritten sentence that had Rowan throwing it back onto the table.

Save me a dance. - Klaus

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     "I've never been to a dance in Mystic Falls where there hasn't been a murder or attack of some kind, why is this one any different? Especially since the majority of the murderers are all going to be under one roof - free to roam and kill each other."