𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑶𝑿𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 - 𝘯𝘪𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘰𝘯

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ fᴏʀᴛʏ fɪᴠᴇ

                                              ➳

Marcel lays Davina's body down on her bed in the attic of St Anne's church, waiting anxiously. A moment passes, it feels like an eternity, but suddenly the witch gasps for air, trying to fight her way out of the shawl she's been wrapped in.

"Davina." Marcel rushes to her side, helping her out and sitting her up. "You're ok. You're safe now. You hear me? You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you, ok?"

Lunar watches on from the doorway. She's split up from Klaus. He's gone to the cemetery to deal with his sister, it is her job to handle Marcel.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Davina." Lunar smiles, entering the room. "How about we celebrate with a game?"

She spins a stake in her hand, eyeing her craftsmanship before aiming it at Marcel. It flies through the air, landing in his stomach. He groans in pain, looking up at her, shocked.

"I like to call this, pin the stake on the vampires heart." Lunar smiles, slamming Marcel against the attic wall. She grasps the stake in his stomach, twisting it before pulling it out, jamming it into his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my aim as gotten terribly bad these days-" Davina waves her hand, performing a sleeping spell, and Lunar's brunette body collapses to the floor, unconscious; for now.

Marcel pulls the stake out of his shoulder, dropping the wood onto the attic floor as he looks at the witch and smiles. "It's good to have you back, D."

- Lafayette Cemetery -

Klaus marches into the cemetery, still wielding the white oak stake.

"Rebekah! REBEKAH!" He yells, his rage is evident. Consuming every ounce of him. "Cherish the breath in your lungs! It'll be your last."

Opera House, New Orleans, 1919

"The final act of Le Grand Guignol is upon us! Where are my players?" Mikael shouts as he walks the streets of New Orleans, white oak stake in hand. "Enough running, children! Step out of the shadows so we can finish this tale of sorrows."

Just ahead, barely out of Mikael's view, Klaus and Elijah continue to hurry down the desolated dark streets of the French Quarter. Rebekah remains draped in her brother's arms, still unconscious.

"He's coming." Elijah tells Klaus, he grabs a metal stake from someone's fence as a weapon, as Klaus sets Rebekah's body down on the ground.

Biting into his wrist and drawing blood, Klaus offers it to his sister. "All right. Come on, sister." Rebekah feeds, slowly regaining consciousness.

"Marcel." She whispers, opening her eyes.

"He's gone, sister." Elijah tells his sister. Rebekah turns, looking behind her now to see the Opera House engulfed in flames. Haunting screams of those trapped inside fill the night air.

"No. No." Rebekah shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes.

"Both of you must flee this city. I'll hold him off, Niklaus." Elijah says.

Klaus pulls his sister to her feet, before looking at Elijah. "No. We fight him together." He's firm.

"We cannot fight him. All we can do is do what we've done. We deceive him. We lead him astray. Now, I can do that as well as anyone. You take her far away from here. I'll follow you." Elijah tells Klaus, adamant.

"No, Elijah. You can't. You can't, Elijah." Rebekah begs, tears continuing to stream down her face. "This is just- this is my fault."

"No. This is my fault, Rebekah. I am so sorry. I'm sorry." Klaus tells his sister.