𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 | KLAUS MIKAELSON (REWRITING)

CHAPTER TWO

"That's a dead body."

She chuckled darkly, "Good observation," she rested her hip on the handle of the shovel, "Go on then, grab him." He groaned, before reaching out and dragging him from the boot and to the ground. Morrigan had begun to dig a hole towards the woods, haphazardly throwing dirt beside her — the pair of boots she was wearing was less expensive than usual. She helped him toss the body into the ground before tossing the dirt back onto him.

"I thought you said you removed his organs?" He recalled what she had said when they were on the phone the day before as he examined the corpse before him.

"Oh, I did." She nodded enthusiastically, a sadistic grin growing on her face. "I left him and my artwork where he was," she laughed secretively, remembering the brilliant idea she had, "He was at that rest stop an hour ago." Myrrdín looked at her disapprovingly. "What? I got hungry. Plus, at least I'm burying him." She gestured with the shovel in her hand towards the fresh pile of dirt where the body was.

Her brother was still staring at her with a look of disbelief, "I leave you for five minutes and you manage to kill someone. You worry me." Morrigan shrugged at him, resting her hands on her hips as she examined the — sort of — grave.

"Come on." She began walking back towards her range rover with the shovel still dangling from her fingers, Myrrdín trailed behind after rolling her eyes at his sister. Morrigan tossed it into the boot and slammed it shut, then jumped back in the driver's seat. When he went to reach for the aux cable again, she smacked his hand away with a scowl, "Your playlists make me want to tear out my heart." She plugged in her own phone, scrolling through her music library until she found a suitable song: Shoot to Thrill.

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes as he automatically leant forward to lower the volume. "You're so predictable. Just because you dress like a rock band groupie doesn't mean you need to listen to them."

Morrigan turned and gave him an offended look, glancing down at her outfit self-consciously, "Fuck off, Myr." She turned away from him obstinately, eyes focused dead ahead as she gave him the silent treatment.

However, this did nothing to deter him from mocking and teasing her, "You know, you can't dress like that when we go to high school." He smirked, "They'll think you're a witch."

The offended look on her face was very much obvious, he was sure that if they were in a cartoon there would be smoke coming from her ears. Morrigan was horrified, "I would rather die," she shook her head in disbelief, "Witches are disgusting little insects — how could you compare me to one of them," she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, "Someone's definitely not getting time to flirt with all of the 'hot guys' as you call them." She snorted slightly as she used finger quotes.

"Hey," he said, scowling at her playfully, "You know I like the werewolves, I like the extra bite," he flashed his own elongated canines at her, with his eyes turning crimson red for a moment.

Morrigan rolled her eyes at her brother, knowing full well that he was deadly serious about the biting — what he did in his spare time was none of her business. "We're going to be in this car for another four hours," she checked the route she had up in her phone, "So if you don't shut the hell up I'm going to remove your tongue," she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, "Okay?"

☾*☾*☾*☾*☾

MYSTIC FALLS WAS AS HORRIBLE AS Morrigan remembered. It was dull, quaint and small — everything she hated. Of course, it had good memories for her but it also had bad ones. Myrrdín had insisted that the first thing she did was make an appearance to Bonnie Bennett, the witch who had summoned her. This was what lead her to be standing on the doorstep of the Salvatore Boarding House.