Ghost of the Devil

The French Quarter vs Wolves

Girls like her were born in a storm. They have lightening in their souls. Thunder in their hearts. And chaos in their bones.

The sound that filled the air consisted of the light tapping as water dripped to the floor, the chains around her wrists and ankles jingling as she moved around in a struggle to get out of them, and her subtle grunts in pain as she moved. The room was dark, cold, and the cold sweat that covered her body caused her hair to stick to her skin. She looked up at the taller figure as he walked back into the cellar she was being held in, her eyes hinting a shift of yellow as the enraged wolf inside of her tried to find it's way out. He kneeled in front of her and lifted her chin to face him, she tried to fight, but the wolfsbane in her system made her as weak as a lemon.
"I told you Hayley.. wolves don't belong in my quarter" he watched her, this had been the second time he had caught her in the French Quarter, but due to their history, he had let it slide.
She gritted her teeth and straightened up so her face was closer to his own "and I told you, Marcel, I do whatever I want."
With that remark he drove his boot into her stomach roughly, if it had not been for her wolf, it would've easily broken a rib. Veins cracked below his eyes as he quickly lost his temper, and kicked her in the stomach once more. "You're going to regret ever coming into my city" he spat at her then turned to walk out of the cellar, slamming the door on the way out.
She gave in to the poison filling her veins and was slowly whisked away into unconsciousness.

The next morning she was awoken by a strange man. Neatly pressed suit, slicked back hair and the eyes of a puppy dog. She blinked herself awake as she slowly sat up and looked at the stranger, wondering if he was there to kill her or help her.
'Who the hell are you..' were the only words to escape her lips. She'd never admit it, but she was afraid. He stared at her for a moment, slightly confused and then slowly made his way over toward her.
'Elijah Mikaelson..' he spoke, his voice both elegant and rugged at the same time "I'm here to help you" he continued, as he began removing the needle stuck in her arm which allowed the wolfsbane to flow into her veins. He unclasped the chains from around her wrist and slowly lifted her off of the ground, as she watched his face in both confusion and worry of what was to come next.
"Marcel won't hurt you again.." he muttered to her as her eyes slowly closed. He vamped out of the cellars where Marcel had kept Hayley prisoner and headed towards a home closer to the bayou country. This home was in no way as elegant as their previous homes, but it was enough to keep them same.
She slowly fell unconscious in his arms, strangely comforted by Elijah's presence.