chapter nine, the tears of a fallen angel
HER EYES WERE FILLED WITH ANGER, just as she used to look at her father and his friends gathered for one of their evenings where they would get drunk and start making inappropriate comments or start to touch her. They were filled with hatred for herself that she was just a weak woman who didn't have the power to do anything. The brown colour of her eyes was turning black, smeared with blood as the power within her stood still. Oh, how she wished to unleash it. How she wished to bring down everyone who did this to her...
"If looks could kill..." Klaus teased her, walking around the apartment, gathering stuff.
Ophelia couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she was just a few minutes ago in that abandoned house and now she was here. She didn't have the time to process what had happened and that she had the power of creation because the hybrid wasn't intending to give her time.
"I told you, you won't like it – so you can't call me a liar," he explained.
She stood still in the same place where he placed her. Not a finger dared to twitch, not a hair dared to move. "I am not doing anything you need."
That made him stop in his tracks and the bag he held was tossed on a counter in the kitchen. Now, his attention was on her. But even his clouded expression wasn't going to make her shiver in fear. She didn't understand many things and probably won't be able to, but she knew one thing well – he needed her alive.
"If you won't cooperate nicely, I'm afraid the consequences will fall on your brothers," he took a step closer to the unmoving statue of a woman.
"If you won't," she mimicked his way of speech, "cooperate nicely, I am afraid you will not have anyone to cooperate with."
His eyebrows slightly raised – was she threatening him? The corner of his lips slightly curved up into a chuckle, "Oh, that's very brave of you... And what are you planning to do, love?"
She knew he was stronger than her, faster than her and even smarter than her. But he was playing with someone who saw death. It was one thing she was not afraid of.
The statue broke its stillness as she quickly moved the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife with a swift movement that made him come closer. She pushed the knife to her neck and held eye contact with him: "I was dead for over a hundred years – do not think for a second that I am afraid to go back there."
For the first time, she saw genuine fear flash in his eyes. But the grip on the knife handle got stronger, the blade touching the vein, popping through her fragile skin.
"Will you be able to rest with the thought that I slaughtered your brothers and drained your grave in their blood?" His words were stone, hard pebbles underneath her feet, burning and sizzling her skin.
Ophelia never wished any harm to her brothers. They were a handful, they were sometimes too selfish because the society was created for them. But she never wanted their death. She never wanted to rip them away from opportunities. But she still wasn't sure if all of this was real. If them, being vampires meant that they were still her brothers.
"Killing our line will not help you, Klaus. I will not be a doll for you to use. I will not be used for your wishes. I will not do anything against my will. I may not be strong, fast or fit for this world, but I still have a choice to end it all."
If her brothers were still her family – they would rather die than let their sister be used like a rag doll.
Suddenly, he appeared right in front of her and it made her gasp in fear, but she didn't release the handle as she gripped it tighter, trying to not give in to the shaking of her fingers. He was too close and he was dangerous.
His blue eyes raged looking into hers, "Go on," he nudged her with his words. "Cut your neck open." He leaned in closer and a bit lower so he could match his height with hers. "I will find ways to awaken you from your slumber no matter how many times you will try to bleed your veins dry. Whenever you open your eyes – I'll be there. And I can wait—I can wait because I have the eternity in front of me. So do it. Let's see how many times you will need until you will give up."
She gulped uneasily as her hand started to shake. One tear escaped her eye, but it wasn't a symbol of sadness. It was the tear of a Lucifer – full of fury and betrayal. There have been too many tears of sadness and disgrace and they made her feel small, unloved. But holding a knife against her neck, and having a murderer in front of her showed her that the world she was in was wrong. Different times, over a hundred years apart, but injustice was the same.
"Will it be me or you giving up?" She lowly said before she lunged the knife into the side of his neck, watching the way he gulped for fresh air, his eyes widening. Wiping the tear off her face, she sniffled and watched his anger grow – she didn't know how to kill an immortal being.
She knew she didn't have much time since he already put his hand on the handle of the knife that was stuck in his neck. She quickly moved back and lounged through the door near her, entering a staircase. She didn't have a lot of energy to run for her life, but the beating adrenaline in her veins was helping her to run faster down the stairs.
At the end of the stairs, he appeared out of nowhere, making her grip the side of the wall and stop for a moment. The blood messed up his clothes, but the wound was way smaller than the size of the knife. He quickly aimed for her neck, grasping it as if he was about to break it, but she pushed her hand on it and she slowly started to pull away, not understanding where she had the strength to do that. But his hand slowly was retracting; shaking and panting she was doing that.
"Won't give up easily, will you?" He asked as she noted that the wound on his neck was already healed.
"Would you give up easily?" She dropped his hand away from her, standing on a step, matching his height.
"I've never been in your position, love. It's hard to say," he replied, cheekily, but his eyes were filled with fury. Or was it that he didn't expect this to happen?
"Will you make an agreement with me?" She knew well that there wasn't a good way out of this and that she was bargaining with the wrong person. She couldn't trust him.
"What could you possibly give me?" He asked.
"You need me for miseries and I am not willing to submit. Give me time to adapt. To this world. To what I am. To my family. I cannot go with you without knowing what is going to happen to me," she asked, her hands still shaking from the fact that she plunged a knife into his neck just a few minutes ago.
The hybrid only slightly tilted his neck, analysing her face: "What is your offer if I give you time?"
"My willingness. I will go with you anywhere if I get time and if you tell me what is going on."
"I can get your willingness in other ways, love," he murmured, looking down at her lips and back to her eyes. "Everyone cracks. I have all the time in the world."
"And yet you are keen to leave as soon as possible. Would it not be easier if I would go with you willingly?" She tried her best to reason with him, but it was as if making a bargain with a devil – she didn't know where this could take her – would she still have her soul intact after this?
Klaus slightly squinted his eyes: "How much time do you need?"
"A month."
He chuckled and nudged his head down, slightly shaking it, keeping his smile contained: "That's too much."
"In your eternity? I am only asking for a month."
Klaus looked back at her, noticing how determined she was. Many people tried to bargain with him, but it usually ended up with their death. It took certain strength to make a deal with him because one wrong move and everything could fall down. He was impatient and he didn't like waiting even if he waited all his life to break this curse. This month wasn't even a grain of sand in his hourglass, but it felt too long – he was so close to his liberation. To everything he has ever wanted.
"But I have some terms." He finally announced.
It felt weird to stand in front of him when she tried to murder him just a minute ago. But her heart wasn't beating fast because she almost became a murderer or how, without even blinking, she hurt him. She felt oddly powerful. As if her voice mattered and it wasn't just a game of a cat and a mouse. It was different, everything was different – but she wasn't the same Ophelia either. There was no way she could be her old self after the sentenced death, after the never-ending nightmare and the fear that had been caused by this man. She was as if a porcelain doll with something dark lurking inside as the porcelain slowly started to crack.
Her silence made him continue: "You will not leave this town and for your own good, make sure that your brothers or any of their foolish friends won't try to do anything against me. If I even sense that they are plotting something – I'll take you with your brothers' heads right where I need you to be."
His words were a clear threat, but it was the best she could have bargained for. She wasn't good with terms as she was used to being unheard, but this was new for her and she was going to keep her end of the promise.
"Very well," she agreed.
"Oh, and this," he pushed his fingers to his neck, wiping his own blood swiftly, "it better not happen again. I'll oversee this once, only because you didn't know better."
Ophelia didn't feel apologetic. Why should she be if he healed up in mere seconds? He was immortal. The pain was nothing to him. A brief reminder of what it was like to be a human, where a simple scrape on the knee would ruin the mood. He wasn't a human—she will not feel sorry for someone like him.
Klaus looked up the stairs and slightly smirked: "I guess you better hurry and tell your brothers before they ruin all of this."
Her eyes widened and she quickly got upstairs into the apartment where now, her brothers stood. As soon as they noticed their little sister, they rushed to her and grabbed her hands, making sure that she was alright.
"Where is he? What did he do?" Damon slurred out the words.
"I am well," she replied, her gaze softening while looking at her brothers. "We made a deal."
"A deal?" Stefan furrowed his eyebrows.
"Yes, and I hope we can all keep it," Klaus' voice appeared behind her.
"What's the deal?" Stefan straightened his back.
Ophelia took Stefan's hand and gently squeezed it: "I get a month to get used to this new world. To understand better what I am. To understand why I am needed before I go with him."
"Go with him where?" Damon wasn't content with this deal.
"I'm afraid that doesn't involve you, mate," Klaus replied, grabbing a cloth from the kitchen and wiping the blood off his neck.
The woman took Damon's hand as well, squeezing both of her brothers' hands, wanting them to look at her: "It is much better than him taking me right now into the unknown. I have a chance to be with you. To understand why I am needed in this world. But you must promise me that you will not harm him."
Stefan nodded, looking annoyed: "That's where the catch is..."
"Promise me," she insisted, squeezing their hands tighter. "You have told me that this man is cruel beyond words and that he will not hesitate to hurt me or any of us. I know that well. This agreement gives us time and opportunities. Promise me."
"And what will you do during this time? Terrorize the city? Kill puppies and kittens in the streets? Or maybe will you lurk in the shadows and scare passing children?" Damon turned to Klaus.
Those remarks only put a smile on Klaus' face: "None of your business. I made the deal with your sister. You better promise her or you won't see her in five minutes."
"Okay, Ophelia. We understand," Stefan quickly reasoned. "I promise."
Ophelia looked at Damon, waiting for his answer.
"Yeah, I promise."
i love their interactions— i feel like Ophelia is slowly starting to get her voice back after being silent for so long (literally). And trust me, the deal won't be so easy to keep—
how do you find their interactions?