White Blood | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter One

   "Eleanor!"

   It sounded like a ghost whispering through the walls, soothing the pain that occurred all over. The voice was filled with horror and worry, yet it held warmth. It felt like a blanket covering her body, one that protected her against the darkness of the world.

   "Eleanor!"

   The man pulled away as she fell to the ground with gentle sobs racking her chest. He towered over her with a small smirk around his lips. "Give your mother my regards," he said as he pulled on the same cold gloves that touched her. "Welcome to a slow death."

   "Eleanor!"

   The man tossed her two gold coins and sneered a low, "Welcome, whore."

   "No!"

   The same voice that resembled the ghost came closer, revealing a blond woman. She ran through the pigeons on the corridor, until she came to the man. Over and over again, she hit the man's chest with her small fists. The man pushed her away with all his might, making her hit the wall rather hard. With one last look at the two women, the man left with a wide smirk around his lips.

   "No..." the woman cried, falling to her knees in front of Eleanor. "Eleanor, no..." She reached her, and laid both hands gently on her cheeks, and rubbed her thumbs up and down. "Eleanor... My sweet, sweet Eleanor... Come with me. We must leave this place." She stood and took her hand, pulling her up and running out of the church as soon as possible.

   They weaved through the stone paths of Hastings. There were no people on the streets except the drunk and those who paid for sex. Eleanor kept close to the woman as she passed through the corner filled with drunken men that reached out to her. She flinched and whimpered, pushing them away with her free hand.

   "Come on, sweetheart," the woman hummed as she pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Ignore those bastards. Just continue walking."

   "Where are we going?" Eleanor asked, staring at the back of the head of the woman. "Where are you taking me?"

   "Somewhere safe," the woman responded. "To a new life."

   "Who are you?" Eleanor continued with her questions, curious. She wanted to know who was this woman that gave her comfort was. The woman was so strikingly familiar that she remembered her seeing her once in a dream. The long blonde hair, the plump lips, the beauty mark in the corner of her chin, the slightly crooked nose, and the dazzling blue eyes that resembled the sunny sky under the candlelights that were illuminated through the streets.

   Eleanor wondered how could this woman look so similar to her. She thought that she could be a sister; maybe her mother had another child before she died. Maybe, just maybe, they got separated. Her other thought was that this woman, this strange woman that took her into her arms, might just have been her dead mother.

   "That's not important right now," the woman said, quickly glancing back. "Right now, just follow me."

   "But, where are you taking me?" Eleanor continued to ask. "I should go back to the orphanage—"

   "No!" The woman suddenly turned and laid her hands on the coppered haired girls shoulder. "You will never be going back to that place, Eleanor."

   Eleanor stared at the woman with her brows furrowed, her head slightly tilted to the side. She had never had a problem at the orphanage; she had sung the songs of the church, she marched down the beach with Sister Joan and Sister Galia while singing, she had paid attention to Father Brine, and she had done everything she was asked. But, there was a part of her that was happy that she didn't have to go back.