✔ The Way We Burn || Kol Mikaelson (Complete)

Chapter 57

Warning: Humiliation

Never had Kol found a full moon as magnificent as he did that night. A depiction of the true beauty of the world, it shone high in the sky amidst an ocean of stars and bathed the room in its hazy light through the glass of the patio door. The room was quiet, the silence only broken by the sound of heartbeats. Esther's own heart shook off the grip of death and started beating again, the sound slowly getting stronger and louder.

When her eyes fluttered open, she glanced around her, looking lost. She only came to a full stop once the sight of the moon fell upon her eyes. Her pupils constricted as her body stilled, seemingly not noticing Kol and Nora. Her eyes reflected the moonlight and her gaze appeared to be glued on the sight outside the window as if nothing else in the world mattered.

Kol coughed, drawing the former witch's attention. A stern frown tugged at her mouth and dislike and fear darkened her gaze. Although her confusion lessened a little, it didn't disappear completely.

"You... Kol?" Esther asked in a raspy voice. People in transition tended to suffer from a lack of memories – especially those related to their last moments as a living human being. His mother was no exception and the rope tightly binding her wrists together didn't help her to better understand her situation. Here was her son, a man she hated and feared and wished to see destroyed. But still her son, someone she and her husband fought against and killed. "What is it?"

Then her gaze swayed as it landed on the pool of blood staining the floor beneath her. Kol watched gleefully as something changed in her composure. Something clicked. Tension crawled up her spine and her arms spasmed. It was horror and despair and a whole new feeling of terror engulfing her frail form as she tried to reach out for her throat. Kol's lips parted in a dark, cruel smirk, so different from Nora's current cold expression.

"What have you done?!" Esther snapped.

Nora tossed a blood bag at Esther, not measuring her strength at all. The plastic material of the bag tore open under the pressure and blood suddenly splattered the woman, drenching her hair and clothes that were already caked with dried blood. His mother froze.

"A little thirsty, mother?" Kol cackled and had to refrain from clapping his hands loudly. "It happens even to the best of us!"

His wife didn't quite agree with the statement and snorted in disdain, "The best? Please, honey, don't try to sugarcoat the truth, and let's call a dog, a dog. Speaking to her, you should rather say the worst."

"I'm pretty sure you just insulted every dog of this world, darling." Kol beamed at Nora before turning back to Esther. If his voice came out in an all too cheerful tone, well, no one dared to make a comment. "Feeling fine, mother? Don't worry, the thirst is absolutely normal."

He crossed the room in a few eager strides and grinned at the soon-to-be vampire. His hand grabbed her hair and forced her head back so that their eyes would meet.

"How does it feel, mother, to know you'll become one of the monsters you hate so much?" he crooned.

A whine escaped the woman's throat and her bound hands tried to dig into his own arms, nails almost piercing the skin, to push him away. Her strength meant nothing to him though, and his smirk only widened in front of her pointless attempt.

"If I remember right, it's exactly how Father treated Finn when he refused to drink blood back then. Ah, such sweet memories make me feel nostalgic."

"How could you do this to me?" Esther whimpered when his grip tightened, more than one strand of blond hair being ripped off.

"This?" Kol hummed, exchanging a mirthful glance with Nora. "Oh, this is nothing, dear mother."

All of a sudden, he pushed her face down towards the blood-stained floor, stopping just a short breath away from the now cold blood. It was all too easy to notice the urge to fight leaving her. The temptation the blood offered was too strong and her eyes kept sliding from him to the puddle of blood underneath her. The pride she took so much pleasure in wielding like an armor was being chipped away piece by piece and would undoubtedly never recover from the blow.