Screamer ●The Originals●

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   Genevieve laid in her bed like Sleeping Beauty, her black raven hair spread across her pillows like silk. Her eyes laid shut form the world, in deep slumber having endless nightmares of death and sorrow. She could scream and shout all she want, but there was nothing to help her. Standing in the doorway of her tomb, under the French Quarter was the New yet old king, Marcellus. He looked at his friend, his sister who slept through her screams and cries of pain and death. Genevieve, was the only person he loved as a sister. Her being 5 years younger than him, the most beautiful and cheerful girl he ever met.

She was always smiling, despite the abuse of her 'father'. She was the most beautiful girl in the village, even Marcel could agree. She was beautiful like a siren, raven black hair, pale skin like snow, and green apple eyes. He would tease her, and call her Snow White. She would blush and laugh with him. A small girl peeks in and gasps upon Genevieve. "Is that her?" She asks. "It is, little D" smiles Marcel. Davina smiles. "She's beautiful" awes Davina. "She would be so happy to hear you say" Says Marcel. "Really? Why? I mean she's beautiful, surely she had many men at her feet" says Davina.

"She did, but she was so insecure about herself thanks to her 'father'" says Marcel spitting venom at the thought of that man. "What did he do? And why do you spit his name like it would be so disgust to say?" Asks Davina. "Genevieve was beautiful, yes. But she found it hard to believe, her father - he abused her for not being his own." He says. "She wasn't his child?" She questions. "No, for the longest they couldn't have childern. When they put as a micrale child. Genevieve came around when I was 5. I knew she wasn't their, no resemblance. None. Then when we were saved, we found out together, she was stolen from her true family." Explains Marcel to the young witch. "Did she ever find them?" Asks Davina, she felt so bad for Genevieve. Marcel obiously cared for the girl, deeply.

"No, but she promised to me. She would find them, she always had this gut feeling they were alive. Somewhere. I told I would help her, anyway I could. She was my family and making her happy was my joy" he says, smiling to the sleeping girl. Her chest moving up and down as she slept. Her flushed cheeks, so pale from lack of sun. "I think it's time, she woke up" says Davina. "I knew you would" smirks Marcel. Davina smiles and gets to wake up the Banshee, the last Banshee of her own. She chants as the candles light all around the tomb. Whispers of Davina's voice, echo through Genevieve's mind and head.

Gasping, Genevieve's eyes open. She sits up breathing, she looks round her surroundings. "Genevieve?" Her head snaps to Marcel who stood by her bed, ready to greet his siter. "Marcellus?" She asks, her odd American British accent clear as day. "It's me, Gen" he smiles. She lets out a sob and jumps of the bed and into his arms. "I've missed you so" she whispers clinging to the only family she ever loved. "Where are the others?" She questions. She looks around passed him to the upper chambers of the Quarter. "They left us when Mikeal came, Genevieve" says Marcel. "What? No, they wouldn't would they?" She mumbles on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry, Gen" he says. They hug it out. "Now I would like you meet someone" says Marcel. She nods, they turn to Davina who watched the two happily.

"Oh my, she looks just like her" gasps Genevieve looking upon Davina. Marcel smiled. "Genevieve meet Davina Claire" he introduced the two. "You look just like her" repeats Genevieve with tearful eyes. "Who?" Asks Davina. "Your ancestor, Sabrina Claire. She was my best friend when we made New Orleans. She made me immortal, then the night I died. She gave me potion that made me a screamer, the last living screamer. It running in my bloodline from my true family. I would be the last one, unless I had a child." Genevieve says. "A Banshee" says Davina, it hitting her.

"Yes, I am a Screamer, a Banshee" says Genevieve.

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OCT 16, 2016 @ 5:43 PM ✔