An Original Vampire's Guide to the Universe (Rewrite)

The Year That Never Was

Warning: This chapter has mentions of physical and mental torture. They aren't too graphic but after this chapter, the story will deal with the aftermath heavily.

Nick

It was about a week after the Master took over that Tyra was made to leave the room she had been locked into for the first time. She spent most of the time on the Valiant pumped full of vervain and by now she was more or less used to the burning sensation that coursed through her veins. As used to it as someone could be. Most she wondered whether the Master was aware that vampires built up a tolerance for vervain the more they're exposed to it.

The Master had spared no expenses and even invested in some vervain-soaked shackles he had managed to get spelled by a witch. At least that's what Tyra had assumed since she hadn't been able to break through them, no matter how hard she tried. That and the pain she felt as the shackles kept digging into her skin was excruciating.

One of the guards pushed Tyra to her knees, keeping a hold of her shoulders "How is my little vampire pet doing?" the Master inquired, turning to face Tyra with a grin that made fear well up inside of the girl. That grin was foreboding – there was no other word to describe it.

"Bite me," Tyra spat, her gaze involuntarily going to the Doctor. He was curled up outside of a tent, chained to the wall.

"That's more your thing," the Master pointed out, sauntering over to her. Without a moment of hesitation, he crouched down before her "I have a little present for you. Imagine my surprise when one of my contacts informed me of someone... special. Someone that even the almighty Originals fear."

Tyra looked up at him in surprise and confusion "What?"

"I believe the question you want answered is 'Who?' Oh, there was just one thing I had to promise him," the Master explained, patting Tyra's head mockingly "You can come in now." He motioned to the door, causing every eye in the room to turn.

"No," Tyra breathed, recognising the person in the doorway immediately. It was the last person she ever wanted to see again "No..."

Heads turned from the man who had entered to Tyra and back, watching as Mikael stalked forwards with a predatory glint in his eyes "Hello, girl."

"Father." Tyra spat out the word, glaring up at the man defiantly. Her glare might have been more effective, had she not been subdued with vervain and held down by some humans.

Mikael chuckled in sadistic amusement "Oh, I have missed you."

"Sure you have," Tyra mocked, falling limp in the guards' arms. She had never been able to go against her father, even when she was able to fight and move normally. But now? Shackled down and pumped full of vervain? Yeah, she had even less of a chance. Tyra was aware of that – of course, she was – but that didn't mean that she was going to give up without trying. She was going to go down fighting. Not for herself but for Niklaus, for all of her siblings.

"You know," Mikael started, reaching out to touch Tyra's face. She slapped the offending limb away, only to find herself pressed against a wall. Mikael sneered, hand clenched around his daughter's throat. Tyra choked at the tightness of the grip "I still remember the last time. I will make you suffer for daring to consort with those witches and trapping me in that tomb, you little bitch. I could have already taken care of the abomination if not for you."

Flashback

Tyra was standing with a group of witches from the Alpha Coven that she and Kol founded several centuries back. She might not have seen her siblings since she ran off but that didn't mean that she wouldn't do anything to protect them.