𝕯𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 - [𝗘𝗹𝗶𝗷𝗮𝗵 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗼𝗻] (EXTENDED HIATUS.)

𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. the ambush

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 — the ambush

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 was an early one indeed; Ophelia's eyes had been forced open by the muttering of the vampires that dawdled about on the lower ground of the compound. 

The siphon had flung her covers from her body, and with a heavy huff that she was certain the vampires below had heard, she got herself ready... though not before scowling at the numbers on her clock that told her it was only eight in the morning; a normal time to some, but Ophelia was on the brink of praying for a good night's sleep.

She cleaned herself up and quickly covered her puncture wounds with a bandage in the hopes of avoiding another blood ridden outfit if she accidentally disturbed the scabbing. Ophelia had thrown on a simple white cami dress that reached her lower calf, splits running up either leg that was covered in small, red flowers and paired the outfit with red heeled boots and a jean jacket.

With a rather disgruntled and mildly pissed look covering her face, which still had small red lines from the way she slept, Ophelia made her way out of her bedroom and peered over the balcony only to find that a majority of the vampires had vacated the gathering, only Elijah, Niklaus and Marcel remained. What piqued her interest the most, however, was the sight of a mutilated body. A dark-skinned man in a white suit that had splatters of blood covering it... she looked down at her own outfit, a small grimace marring her lips as she noticed the resemblance between herself and the corpse.

Her pace quickened as she made her way to the stairs, her heels clicking against the wooden flooring drawing the attention of the vampires towards her as she rose a brow at the three, "Playdate end badly?" 

Klaus let out a hearty chuckle, "My playdates never go well, love."

"Oh, I believe you." Ophelia countered with a small twitch of the lips as she approached the body and peered down at the sliced neck, "Who's this?"

"Papa Tunde," Klaus responded, his voice a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. His cerulean gaze shifted towards Elijah who was knelt incredibly close to the body. Klaus rolled his eyes at his older brother, his tone full of sarcasm, "Can I get you anything, brother? A magnifying glass? A pipe, perhaps?"

"You have a theory you'd like to share with us, Niklaus?"

Marcel shifted in place, removing his hands from his pockets as he scratched at his cheek in deep thought, "Back in the day, the witches wanted to send a threat, they'd just kill a chicken and leave it on your doorstep."