Ghost of your Past!

009...All's fair in love and war!

She didn't respond, simply waving her hand flippantly before returning her full attention once more towards the aged pages. She heard an exaggerated groan, before feeling his arms lift her up. "What're you doing?" She spoke, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He moved to sit on the sofa, placing Kara atop his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You need rest mia vita." He spoke softly to her, kissing her jawline slowly. She closed her eyes in contentment, turning slowly to capture his lips in hers. It was odd how every kiss felt like their first, pure euphoria filling every sense, emotions guided by ecstasy.

"You know I can't," She uttered, running her fingers through his curls, "If I can't remove the hollow from Hope..." She trailed off, gaze casting downwards as her thoughts flooded with anxiety.

Aleks' lips left her body, his fingers taking place as he lifted her chin, grey clashing with blue. "You would be of more help if you rested Kar."

"I know, I know. It's just-"

"It won't turn out like last time, Angelo." He responded, looking at her with intensity.

Their foreheads were pressed against one another, hands woven together, as the world stood still just for a moment.

***

They surrounded her, mob mentality overtaking their better judgment, fear of the unknown blinding them in rage. It was odd, how betrayal was never at the hand of your worst enemy, but your closest ally. Hamlet's father, killed by his own brother, Julius Ceasar, killed by the senate and his friend Brutus, Robbie Turner, betrayed by his lover's sister. And now? Kara Mikaelson was betrayed by her village, all for being a witch.

"Vedma!"

"Vedma!"

Vedma!"

Spoken like a mantra, ringing in her ears causing her head to ache. The word lost its sting over time, knowing that the very word that branded her pain only reminded them how weak they truly were in her presence.

As sickening as it sounded, Kara relished in the fear that coated their words, the rage that fuelled the terrifying unknown, how their screams echoed in her mind as she sucked the very magic in their core.

She never wanted to be a villain, but sometimes circumstances called for it.

The villagers began to close in on her, the flames of their torches burning her, only to be cooled by the spit of their venomous words.

"This is only a dream, Kara," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes tightly. "None of this real..."

Her final words echoed as the villagers vanished, leaving Kara alone in the woods. "But it is real, isn't it Kara." She heard a voice whisper into her ears, hissing like the serpent to Eve before dark smoke filled her vision.

In her peripheral, a blinding light filled her sight, leading her to see her old home in Rome.

She now stood in a red gown, gold accenting the edges, a silver headpiece lain atop her head. She turned, only to be met with the taunting smile of the Hollow. "That's the problem, isn't that right Kara?"

"What do you want Inadu!" Kara said, rage enunciating every syllable, venom giving every 't' and 'd' diction.

"It's not about what I want child," The elder witch hissed out, reappearing in front of Kara, "it's about what they want."

"Who the hell are 'they'?" She asked incredulously, still weary of the woman before her.

Inadu merely laughed, sarcasm and venom covering her vocal cords. "Why the ancestors of course."