ACHILLES' HEEL ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [2] [COMPLETED]

𝟎𝟕. 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

(CHAPTER SEVEN :
IN THE DARK)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

DARKNESS FOLLOWED ME, IT was a parasite that I knew well, but never cared for until now. Once I abandoned the scene at The Grill, I intended to find help — revealing my return to town in the process — but the plan fell apart at the seams when a thick mist caged my mind. Since being cursed, I liked to think I developed a sixth sense and could detect when I was about to have an 'episode.' As time went on, I figured I was in a war rather than a battle, learning to defend myself from the black magic that tried to consume me. Some days, I'd function as normal because my mentality overpowered the witchcraft. However, without the blood I needed, I was growing weaker by the day and struggled to put up a fight. Unaware of how severe my oncoming torment may be, I took a sharp U turn into an alleyway to be alone whilst it ran its course. Although I knew it was the safest option, guilt weighed down on my mind at the thought of Jeremy and Connor together. I wish I could have done more for him.

Standing at the mouth of the alleyway, I surveyed the area with urgent eyes. Like most alleyways, it was dark, damp and dreary, so I deemed it suitable enough for the occasion. After my quick scan, I didn't hesitate in sitting down and pressing my back against a graffiti scrawled wall for additional support. Not only was the Curse a series of constant battles, it was a waiting game. Days passed and more side effects appeared, forcing me to question what the bigger picture could be. Amira — Kol's witch — was vague on the details of the Curse and claimed nobody knew how it ended. Perhaps it was mundane of me, but I was hopeful that meant I could be saved. No doubt the side effects were gruelling, but they were only side effects. If what I had endured so fast wasn't the Curse itself, there was still time. Time to find a Claire witch, time to figure out what the Curse even was . . .

"Lottieee," somebody sang, resulting in my head snapping up at the sound of my name. "You need to kill him." They insisted, leaving no room for objection.

Swallowing, I pushed myself up from the ground and glanced around. Instantly, a chill shot down my spine. "Who's there?" I asked, static rushing through my veins and rain clouds resting over my head. "Show yourself!" I exclaimed, clutching my head with a frustrated groan. Something was wrong, but it was a challenge to differentiate fiction from reality in the supernatural world.

Unexpectedly, the Winter wind picked up, urging me to move forward. "You don't need to see me, all you need to do is listen." Like a snake, they hissed, the sounds long and harsh. "You need to kill him, but first, corrupt him. Destroy his soul, make death an honour and mercy he begs for." The authoritative voice ordered, causing me to spin in a circle and spot a figure a few metres away that hadn't been there earlier. From his frame and the whispers, I concluded it was a man. He was tall, a little on the lanky side, and I watched with interest how he tugged at his curls in exasperation as he argued with a female on his phone. I was moments away from tearing out his throat, yet he was lost in his own world to the extent that he was beautifully and blissfully naive to what lurked behind him.