B E T T E R M A N | KLAUS MIKAELSON

EIGHTEEN

Death had a nasty smell.

Even those without a heightened sense of smell could bathe in the pungent aroma of a rotting body, that was, if you got close enough. To someone like Rhine, the odour a body released wasn't so much based on the decomposing flesh, the three sniffs of a cheap perfume, coating the pores of an open wound. No, to someone like Rhine, the smell of death brought about memories, it brought about quick, fleeting images projected onto a scrap of cotton, soaked in blood splatters. It brought about people.

Being surrounded by so much cobbled stone, sticking out of the ground like they had simply been scattered, then stamped on, being surrounded by such a thing was a heavy reminder of those she had killed. Though, the hellhound knew that she only had a body count of one, of who, could hardly be considered a person, his demeaning end weighed her down. His putrid smell entrapped her, pulled her further towards the Earth.

She could feel her sanity slip away, melted persona seeping through the cracks, splattering to the ground, curling around the edges.

The steady sounds of breathing reverberated through the atmosphere, hisses of air being let out of balloons echoing with every single step taken. Once moist leaves crackle beneath her toes, breaking into several pieces under the heavy pattern of her trainer. Up ahead, stood the corroded crypt belonging to the Fell's. The building itself stood out within the cemetery, land surrounding it filled with dozens upon dozens of gravestones, all within a different range of upkeep.

Whispers whistled in the wind startling the girl slightly. Whole-body came to a stop as the hellhound stood, silently cowering away from their harsh extremities in the cool midnight air. Dark blues had painted the sky, only leaving behind the shining stars of white in the wake of the brush strokes. Night had fallen quickly.

An overwhelming fear of the rotten ground sinking below her, dragging her down to the darkest depths of hell greeted her sweetly. It stared at her through blacked-out eyes, sharpened teeth, razor-sharp, glinted against the moon's swelling glow.

Rhine had never liked the cemetery. That fear had stayed with her since she had been a mere child, and had carried her through to her teenage years. There had been an incident, when the family of four had visited the place, poised daisies in hand, heading straight towards the overgrown grave of a family member when she had fallen. Rainboot wobbled, before being sucked into the clutches of another, weeded grass wrapping around a frail ankle, only tightening the underworld's grip.

From that point on, Rhine could no longer stand the eerie silence of a cemetery. She hated it, now even more so, since her parents were dead, buried along with many others in the very place she dreaded even laying her eyes upon.

Visiting them was hard. She couldn't go alone, always had to have someone within her. Could never go at night, always the middle of the day, when the sun was at its peak. Somehow knowing that the brush strokes of the night couldn't jump up on her brought the girl at least a little bit of comfort.

Sucking through her crystalline teeth, Rhine breathed in deeply, allowed the oxygen to flood through her veins and erase any negative thoughts. She was here for her friends, on one of their birthdays, and she refused to let a childhood fear like this one control that.

Stepping through the squeaking door of the crypt, Rhine smiled slightly at her friends, lips parting slightly as she took in exactly what she was looking at.