MIND OF A KILLER

𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡

KLAUS WAS currently in the middle of teaching a class. She was teaching art class. "Okay I am giving you free will you have to do a freestyle painting however you will have to do it inspired by a certain decade. Well a stereotypical decade."

The student nodded and just let them do what they wanted to. She had been listening to her music for about thirty minutes a tap was on her shoulder made her pause her music and look up, it was Henrik, "Mama can you help me? I'm doing a 1940s style painting but I can't get a brush stroke for the life of me."

"Sure thing little one." She said. The others didn't even bat an eye at it anymore. The first day Henrik had come back they had so many questions. The story they were going with is that their mother had faked Henrik's death and left him for dead but Henrik survived somehow and found his sister or as he considers her his mother.

His mother walked to his canvas and already saw many buildings and chimneys, "So you need help with the chimney smoke?"

He nodded and she grabbed the brush and started pulling brush strokes on there and grabbed a painting sponge and dabbed some paint on the canvas. "Look Henrik with art it doesn't have to look right but it has to feel right. It's like this painting I once made Henrik of a woman. They said she didn't look nice. But she wasn't supposed to look nice. She never looked nice. She looked like art. And art wasn't supposed to look nice. It was supposed to make you feel something."

He nods, "I understand mama."

"Good just do what feels right not what looks good. Okay?" He nods.

She then leaves him. She begins to listen to music when suddenly an extremely tall and handsome with darker skin, "Marcel what are you doing here?"

Her son sighs, "Rebekah is at it again."

She groans and lets out a low growl luckily Marcel was standing in front of her because her eyes grew a golden shade and veins grew under her eyes for a moment before. "I'm going to commit murder."

"Ma, no you will not commit murder." Marcel told her.

"No Marcellus Ansel Gerard you will not tell me what to do." That immediately shut him up he knew better than to say anything when his mother was in a fit of rage especially when she used his full name. "At this point she is harassing you trying to basically commit assault."

"But-"

"But nothing Marcellus. You listen to me now you will not know pay here any mind and you will let me deal with Rebekah." She said.

"Yes mama."

"Good." She hummed.

"But Marcel's right mama." He said causing her to glare at him. "Henrik Mikaelson."

"Sorry mama but we don't need you going to prison." He said making her sigh.

"Just let's not think about Rebekah and Elijah and you are to stay here until I say otherwise." She said pointing at Marcel.

"But mama." He whines.

"Nothing you can do whatever you want as long as you don't disrupt them and don't do anything inappropriate." She says making him sigh but sat on the beanbag chair.

"Ms. Klaus if I may ask how many children do you have?" Asked Angela softly.

"Well I have three children my oldest is Marcel who I adopted when I was very young which by the way don't do it because it's highly illegal which I didn't know at the time." She said making Marcel chuckle and Jessica looked at Marcel something about him seemed mysterious and she liked that. As soon as Marcel saw her he gave a look to his mother and she understood what he meant. "Then there's Henrik who is biologically my brother but as you know I raised him and adopted him, then there's my youngest as you know Florence."