The Sorceress | Klaus Mikaelson

T W E N T Y - T W O

Smh I forgot to put brackets around the words Arabella says, my bad just ignore that lmao

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Assholes."

Stefan and Damon are assholes. They left her in the school.

Arabella rubs her head tiredly, glaring at the bright sunlight peeking in through the classroom windows. She had jolted back to life in Alaric's classroom, hidden behind his desk with a jacket thrown over her body. At closer observation, Arabella noticed it was Klaus' jacket, which she proceeded to toss across the room.

At this point, her hair had undone itself and fallen in tangled waves down her shoulders, makeup smudged and dress wrinkled. She looks like a mess. Even more reason to get home quickly.

As Arabella walks down the halls, kicking off her heels from the discomfort, she finds something she never really thought she would see.

Alaric having Rebekah pinned against the lockers, with what looked like a silver encased white oak stake ready for attack. For a moment, Arabella watches in amusement, until she remembers the sire line.

In an instant, she's sped up to the two of them, knocking Alaric off of the Original.

"What the hell are you doing, Ric?" She snaps, glaring at him. Rebekah roughly grabs the younger vampire's arm.

"That's not your history teacher, darling," She whispers, speeding off. Arabella's eyes widen in realization as Caroline comes running down the halls.

"What-- Oh my God! Ric?!" She looks as if she's seen a ghost as she stares at the alter ego of their history teacher. Arabella eyes the stake on the ground, snatching it and shoving it into Alaric's stomach, before running up to the blonde.

"We need to go, now!" She snaps, shoving Caroline forward. The younger stares at Alaric a moment more, before the two of them start speeding off to get out of the school.

Before she can leave, Arabella turns around one more time, to make sure he's not on their trail. Despite not having her magic, she is still the stronger out of the two vampires and can hold him off if needed.

Her breath catches in her throat when the spot Alaric was once in is now empty, all but a puddle of blood left behind.

"Surprise," His voice dangerously growls by her ear, and before Arabella has a chance to react, her neck is snapped.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Arabella's eyes pry open slowly, and the first thing she notices is the pain. Burning, seething pain shooting through her veins and organs. A small whimper involuntarily escapes her lips as she looks down at her body.

Alaric-- or rather, his evil vampire slaying alter ego-- had tied her down to a desk with vervain soaked ropes, one of them placed around her mouth. Each breath felt like an intake of tiny needles. Wooden pencils were shoved into her bare hands, thighs, and feet, keeping her mounted down into the desk and floor.

Alaric walks into the room, tapping the stake against the palm of his other hand as he squints out the window. Arabella glares up at him. He notices, smirking and walking forward, snatching the rag from her lips.

"Ric," She begins slowly, attempting to ignore the way her mouth burns as she speaks. The vervain had basically rubbed her skin to the meat. "I know you're in there--"

"Don't bother," He cuts her off, setting the stake down and picking up a beaker of vervain. "Alaric Saltzman died last night in transition."

"Transi-- What are you?" Arabella tries to keep her gaze straight, but it clouds from the amount of the toxic herb in her system.