Her Majesty // Mikaelson

38 This is War

I find myself in an alley. The shadows of the sun throwing me into shade, preventing my vampire skin from burning, though it already felt like it was. The disease had crawled everywhere now, and I was itching like crazy.

My shoulder ached where it was healing inside, but the stitches were gone. The outside had healed but inside it throbbed with the efforts I've already exerted today. Across the street of the ghost town, or a town that resembled one, I saw a pay phone. My hopes were crushed though, as it was in the sun. For the third time in a thousand years I was a slave to the sunlight.

I can't explain how powerless that felt. How vulnerable.

Would the sun kill me? Only the sword is supposed to kill me, but I didn't like the prospect of burning alive either. Even if I don't actually die.

I groan, sucking in a breath. I'd have to go from alley to alley until I found a better opportunity to reach out.

My entire body felt like it was decomposing. My skin crawled. My muscles spasmed. My blood pulsed in my ears. It felt like dying, for sure. It'd been quite a while since I had a disease.

Well, are wolf bites considered a disease? If that's so, then not as long as I thought, actually.

That reminded me strikingly of Kol. I could call him. He'd find me, wherever this little deserted town was. Not completely deserted. Sure, there was an occasional car that rolled down the street at a lazy pace. The through had crossed my mind to compel a driver to pass his keys over, but that would include going into the sunlight.

The entire street was plastered with sunlight. Hot, sunlight. I couldn't quite understand why. New Orleans was actually overcast this morning. And it was October. So unless I was out of state-

Fuck.

"Neck Snap, Kidnapping, Dislocation, and a flesh eating disease." I throw my arms out, casting my eyes up to the blue sky. "For the love of Protestants, why today?"

Couldn't this have waited until I wore something black? Because now my white patterned dress and tights and red shoes were all dirty and gross.

Once blood touches white material, there's no fixing it.

I stay in that alley, until the sun moves across the sky and finally, after several hours, can I run across the street, burning on the way. I reach the pay phone, that was now casted in shade, and dial Sebastian's phone.

No answer. I stick another Quarter in, one I found in the alley. Punching in numbers and waiting, feeling light-headed and nauseous. Probably from that disease that was eating it's way to my bones. I hold the phone to my ear, waiting as it dials. "Come on you Son of a-"

"Hello?" Simon's voice comes over the phone. I breath a sigh of relief.

"Simon, it's Merida.. I need you to tell my brother... I'm..." I look around, pulling a newspaper and reading the title. "Sanger. Texas. I'm in Texas." I gasp at the realization.

"Yes, and without your ring." Simon adds over the phone. I frown, furrowing my eyebrows together at his voice. Not the normal joking one. This one was so darkly humorous that I thought for a moment I had called the wrong number. Did I mention I didn't have my ring?

'Kill him... Kill him now.' Niklaus's voice chimes into my ear. That urgent way that he told me only last night. My heart seems to stop.

"Simon, where's my brother?" I ask, believing that they were still in the flat together. With Francis and his floppy feathery hair. Waiting for the three girls to return from a fun day out at the festivities.

"You are quite dighted, aren't you?" The Italian replies. I shake my head, though somewhat relieved his voice was back to stupidly amused and jokingly. "Your brother is dead, Merida. And so will you be if you try to stop Zetrov from opening the gate." Then fury over takes me. Fear, mixed with fury.