Eternal ➳ N. Mikaelson [COMPLETED]

➳ 96: one wrong turn on bourbon

IN the freezing tundra of Siberia, a group of men were fishing in the East Siberian sea, sitting in silence and drinking amongst themselves on their boat while waiting to catch something in their nets. There was a sudden tug on the end of the net and they all rushed to pull it up. Considering how heavy the load was, they assumed they had caught an immature sunfish. However when they pulled it out of the water, they saw a grey coffin lying in the bottom of the net surrounded by small fish and clumps of seaweed.

Murmuring in confusion and shock, they pulled the coffin into the boat. Deciding it best to deal with this immediately, they slowly made their way back to the shore. After they docked, they all lifted the coffin out of the boat and set it down against the snow.

"Do we open it?" One of them asked the others in Russian.

"It's a coffin. What are you expecting to see? There's obviously a dead body in there." Another responded in disgust and shook his head. "I say we call the police and wait until they get here."

The tallest of the group scoffed and threw open the lid to reveal Ingrid lying peacefully inside with the golden dagger sticking out of her chest. They all gasped in shock and crowded around her. "Why does she look like that?" One asked, studying her appearance. "Are people usually grey and dry when they die?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen a dead person before." They answered and leaned closer to the Original. "Maybe it's because she was underwater."

"Is that the murder weapon?" They asked and pointed at the dagger. "I wonder if it still has fingerprints on it. Should we pull it out?"

"No. Stop touching everything. You'll just contaminate the evidence." They snapped, trying to get the other four to back away from the coffin. "I'm going to call the cops. Just back away and keep your hands to yourself." He ordered sternly and walked a few feet away to make a phone call.

The other four ignored him and remained close to the coffin, staring down at Ingrid. The taller snapped his fingers and gestured to the glove in the other's pocket. "Hand me your glove. I'm going to pull this baby out." He wrapped glove around his hand and gripped the handle of the dagger tightly in his hands. He pulled the gold weapon out of her chest and studied the blade. "No blood. That means it was put there after she died. So it can't be the murder weapon, right?"

The one returned to the group and saw the dagger in his hands. He sighed and threw his hands up in disbelief. "Guys!" He yelled then gestured to Ingrid, who's color started returning to her cheeks. "What did you do?!"

Suddenly, Ingrid's dark brown eyes snapped open and she grabbed the closest man by the collar of his jacket. "Where am I?" She asked in English and watched them furrow their eyebrows, no recollection for what she was saying. Narrowing her eyes, she climbed out of the coffin and let go of him. "Where am I?" She asked again slower.

"I don't know what you're saying." He responded in Russian and looked at her in concern. "Are you alright? We thought you were dead."

Ingrid tuned into his language and realized he was speaking Russian so she changed her language to match. "Where am I?"

"Siberia, Russia." He answered and watched her closely. "How--- what---?"

"How far are we from the closest town?" She asked him curiously, brushing her clothes off from the dust.

"Pevek is a hundred sixty kilometers that way." He replied and pointed off in front of him, still dumbfounded at the events unfolding before him.