Rebel Just For Kicks: Kol Mikaelson [1]

18: Let The Right Voices In

a/n: WARNING: the first flashback has the end of the vampire attack and the others have the aftermath of it, it reads like a failed sexual assault attempt so I just thought I should put a warning here in case you don't wanna read that.

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MJ was going to die.

She could feel her life being sucked away the longer the pair drank.

One moving around her neck and back, ripping her shirt as he scrunched the fabric up in his hands. Fists pressing into her, nails scratching, drawing more blood.

The other one had bitten into her side.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't see what he was doing.

But she could feel it.

She could feel all of it.

She'd tried to scream, only for a hand to be shoved over her mouth to shut her up, causing her to choke, gagging on her own spit as sobs shook her body, tears sliding down as her head was shoved wherever they wanted it to go.

The grip on her side was too much, too close to the top of her jeans, and with her shirt already practically destroyed, she desperately tried to kick him off.

The fangs hurt.

They cut, and they stung, and they were not welcome on her body.

He forced her to still, the weight crushing her legs down, causing another set of shooting pains to race around her body, blurring her vision, and making her head throb like strobe lights and speakers had been placed next to her ears.

She screamed louder than she ever had before, hand grabbing onto his hair as the other one was blasted off her.

The pressure building up, humming inside her body to try and remind her that she was a witch, a good one, burst out.

The red glow coming from her hands looked like magma against the vampire's face, liquid gold veins appearing under her skin.

His eyes rolled back in his head, and then his head began to twist, even as she let go a little.

Twist

Twist

Twist

Snap.

First in his neck then down each bone in his spine.

He didn't turn grey the way vampires did when they'd been staked or desiccated, his skin was pale, but it wasn't grey, and that was when she realised just how much magic she'd taken. She stripped all of it from his body, meaning he wasn't being kept alive, meaning his neck had snapped because that's how he'd been turned.

That's how he'd died the first time.

She'd killed him.

He was going to kill her. He would've killed her.

It wasn't her fault.

She hadn't meant to. She'd just wanted him to stop, and they wouldn't have stopped, and she'd panicked, and things never went well when she panicked.

And because she'd broken her no siphon streak, he was just a body.

And she couldn't just leave it there.