Chapter Forty Three | A Gushing Fountain of Blood

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This book is based and inspired by the Originals, with a tinge of the Vampire Diaries. I suggest that you watch the shows to understand some occurrences.

All rights go to The Originals television show on the CW, and Lisa Jane Smith (the author), except the characters and events that are purely of my imagination. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, OR ELSE YOU'LL BE REPORTED.

I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IF ANYONE IS COPYING SECTIONS FROM THIS BOOK THAT ARE OF MY INVENTION, PLEASE TAKE ACTION.

(EDITED)



________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛

The song of the chapter is: Everybody Wants To Rule the World by Lorde

Even while we sleep,

We will find you.

Acting on your best behaviour,

Turn your back on mother nature,

Everybody wants to rule the world.

It's my own design,

It's my own remorse,

Help me to decide,

Help me make the most.

Of freedom and of pleasure,

Nothing ever lasts forever,

Everybody wants to rule the world.

There's a room where the light won't find you,

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down,

When they do I'll be right behind you.

________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛ ________ ♛♛♛




          CHAPTER FORTY THREE A GUSHING FOUNTAIN OF BLOOD


     IT WAS BLOODY DISGUSTING. The mere sight of it made my stomach clench and my nostrils refuse to pass blessed oxygen through their respective canals. Red, raw and apparently infected, the skin around the tattoo was nauseatingly pink, skin laying vertically around it instead of being flat. Tiny streamlets of purple disease branched around from the black ribbons of the mark that lay there, starkly contrasting against my chafed flesh.

     It wasn't just a mark, I knew that now. It was a symbol, a sigil of sorts.

     A sound of lament floats from my lips and into the still air of my bedroom as I use my other hand to raise a glass of life giving fluid to my mouth. I lean my head back slightly, revelling in the energy that was slowly being poured into my body.

     My lower lip presses against the upper as I stare studiously at the broken skin around the mark, waiting for healing to begin. It seemed like the yellow pus that was trapped in the bubbles of blistered skin was seeping out and lessening. Or perhaps it is just my imagination, a trick of the light.

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