11 | 2013

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vain casualties

     THE LONG DAY JOURNEYED INTO NIGHT, and Yiko had the grappling sensation this would not end well. Her life hadn't exactly been a line of monotonous events, the opposite, actually. Yet this was a different kind of storm brewing, a tempest with winds of a crippling terror. The best choice would have to be on no one's side, but her own.

     The shadows ensconced her when they arrived in the Abattoir, preferring to oversee how it would play out in the sidelines. Klaus already had the suspicion that it was a trap, to lure him into defeat. Yet, as expected of the hybrid, he stood his ground and waited in the empty, darkly lit courtyard.

     "Klaus," came a soft voice from behind him. Marcel. The hybrid turned to face his enemy, who was once his friend.

     "You've been avoiding my calls," Klaus stated plainly.

     "A little pissed off lately," Marcel replied.

     "Apologies for my behavior can come later," he scowled. "You have something of mine. I want it back." At this, Marcel retrieved the object, a silver dagger, from inside his leather jacket. He held it up, as if he were showing it off. Yiko could only pray to the Jade Emperor nothing too unpleasant would happen.

     "Sorry, but I can't do that." Marcel outstretched his hand, and just then, Rebekah joined his side by taking the dagger from his grasp. Somehow, in some twisted way, Yiko knew this would be bound to happen again, just as how everyone she met in a lifetime would be bound to forget her.

     Klaus, of course, would not take this mutiny well. "What is this?"

     "Apologies for your behavior?" Rebekah echoed. "You don't apologize, Nik. You just act. I've had enough. We have had enough." Yiko couldn't entirely fault Rebekah for standing against her brother. A thousand years of suffering and lies piling up, one was always meant to snap under the heavy weights of this burden. For, it was inevitable that those who loved Klaus Mikaelson would always end up in tribulation or dead.

     Klaus had a wry smile upon his face as he approached them. "Well look at you. Finally in possession of the one thing that can take you down," he mused. "How does it feel?

     "Great."

     A whistle reverberated across the empty courtyard, a signal, causing a number of vampires to step from the shadows and reveal themselves. Klaus seemed competent, eyes scanning the small crowd. "So this is it," he was the epitome of nonchalance, "the evil bastard Klaus has gone too far, must be punished. And by his own sibling, nonetheless." He gestured a hand to Rebekah, "how positively biblical."

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