tw: mentions and minor descriptions
of self killings and harm.
Full of rage doesn't begin to amount to my aggravating grief.
Rotten Shreds.
Dreaded in my Hateful Gaze.
One day I had peered an ugly gaze at my mirrored reflection. I didn't like who I had seen; to the mourning person I had dreaded in becoming. I fell into the coma of grieving in a world that felt suffocating and rendering. And in a sight so silent, I cried out in blistering shouts.
It could easily be heard, even with the redefined structures in-between the walls, my echoing cry rippling through the darkening hues. A despairing, grey sky rumbling, tearing and splintering the watering clouds into two, beating the shredding and jutted drops as time continues to heal.
There was no time, far and wide in between, to cry in ways that I wanted. A deafening weakness that hadn't been visible in such a clear grasp. I hated my reflection. And I disdained the improper value of watching myself weep.
A pathetic fool. Such words as Kael refers to me as.
Reprimanded for the mourns of a weeping widow.
My free hand flew to my mouth, huffing and groaning into its folds and warmth. I tightly shut my eyes, barreling a graveling stain into my grip. I felt sick, jaw clenched and teeth baring and scraping against the others.
I never knew how to accept pain. A filthy emotion that hadn't been born until his death. I felt so forlorn. Every night rendering into the same mess; the tears of my wicked and exhausted haunts that couldn't seem to escape at any other moment.
Plant the brokenness of the royal death deeper inside the heart and splatter a brave face to the kingdom's people, it's what I had to tell myself as I glanced back in the mirror. What a pity that I hadn't disgraced myself upon.
Time hadn't seemed to be a healer, but instead, an over-bearer with shuddering willows. Scribbling in such disguise, I held the fateful act of appearing as an all-good do-all kind of woman.
In spite, I was not. Nor would I be within my heart staggering consequences. I mustn't portray myself as such fragility.
I bargained such a tragedy within myself. No one had dared to see this side of me; and no one must ever.
So flustered, anxious and painted as the ugly geese, I was unsettled by my own appearance. I was hatred and despair, disguised and fragmented into a woman of torment. I screamed painfully into the mirror.
I watched myself. No fear nor embarrassment.
I sat there, wreathing and thrusting my arm crazily against the chain. I batted a hideous and dire tear as the metal clung and tore through my flesh. I've always desired the fierceness that could be offered in pain. More so my wrist throttling and spazzing in flashing red, amplifying my sole focus on agony.
My mouth trembled, like I was caught bearing a promise that couldn't be kept. Eyes pierced a maddening canvas that blurred my own clarity, a harrowing portrait that screamed spurning and repudiation. I didn't recognize myself at nights like now.
I was too distraught with my own bloodied fist to notice my seething and angry bestows. I hated not ever knowing what my life could've been like had it not been for Kael and Inej.
I hurdled a vexing slime of salvia towards my dirtied reflection. I loathed the being I had become.
Screaming an aghast cry upon my marred skin, I stood on my heels and surmounted for a broken, loose end. I was a tortuous puppet, string heaved and plucked upon my body as I jerked and swayed for a possible escapement.
The fear breathes in, my horror stricken features mimicking me through vitreous glass. I didn't even think, not a process to my emotions as I whirled my hand towards the desk of disintegrating fragments and spiraled an eldritch tune.
All demolished and ruptured, I could not longer see a reflection that I scorned. Only an abhorred and wretched self that bawled for sanctuary — a peace of mind and safety — out of respect and dignity.
I was only an aching soul, with no possible route for change. A widow without the grief.
My eyes charged towards the door, rebuking my efforts as I settled myself back into the chair, pretending that I wasn't just a spineless woman. I heard faint whispers and a jiggle against the knob.
With clotted fingers, I hurriedly tried to place the severed glass back into its rightful place. Through the clutches of my profoundness, I winced a rueful irate amongst my distasteful behavior.
Kael would surely have my head with the way I have acted.
Even within an unsteady breath, my eyes glued to the door until the shuddering sound stopped. I couldn't suspect who it must've been, but I fetched my cloth and precipitously rubbed and irritated my plump and somber flesh. All I had begun to see was red.
I wanted death, never wishing to be it. Forever witnessed and engraved into the cruel fate of never truly dying. Immortality wasn't a gift, not when it was used for chambering vengeance.
Caged and dolorous, I felt worse and more petrifying than a needy victim. I was innocence doused and threatened by impurity.
I turned into everything I had ever truly hated. I became the woman I had nightmares about. An entrancing veil between maim and anguish, I had no choice but to endure such insulation.
I was insanity and silence. Mourn and grief. Hate and spite. I was afraid of my own shadow. Too feared upon the sinister revolts that had been the sulking glum of a sapped widow.
I hadn't known how much longer my presence would've been requisite. But I frowned upon that revelation, actually knowing myself to be a liar. I was to never be released to my own intelligence.
Kael and Inej did not trust me, as I didn't to them. And after some time, I too learned that I couldn't trust my intuition.
Any time I spoke, I knew I was wrong. And perhaps, that's where my uncertainty and frustration lies. Not towards my deceased husband, but for myself. I lower my head, relying and banking on the wooden fractures to support such unevenness.
I emerge into a intrepid sleep, but not without a coveted and searing yell towards the mirror. What a menacing face that reflected back into me.
୨ৎ
There was no will for a certain Mikaelson. No governed grounds or purposeful spirits; he simply maneuvered upon his own gravitating intel. Acknowledgment of Benedetta's wishes were spitefully ignored, especially when he was berated by his own brother.
When he knew not to do something, it made him only want to do it more. It's what set the Mikaelsons so far apart, Kol included.
Cowering and vengefully courting himself around the quarters, Kol held no enticement of what exactly he was going to do. Nightfall held the alluring torments of carnage, but upon higher respects he hadn't been so sure of, he balled his fists as he held himself back. A bloodied bath was not the ideal role he proposed for his family.
Not so early on, at least.
With such tedious scents, Kol's body shriveled and decomposed to the unwavering breakage that tore his limbs apart. Divine absolution had filtered, though he paused on his own accords. Upon the hesitance, the great barrier of door versus man had sheltered his ultimate glory and wretched stench.
Kol managed a shivering and seething hitch as he cradled and braised his knuckles over the linear frame. If it had not been for such brittleness, the door would've been securely ripped from its depths.
It's a marvelous unveiling that he too was fearful upon his deranged lust for blood. If not, Benedetta would've held no contentment for such rage.
The entrancing amora hadn't encouraged such ferocious behaviors. The staining and lingering smell devoured his tastebuds, without the detached teeth and ruthless veins. He held such strength that not even he knew he held for himself.
Groaning out of pure annoyance, hilting and shaking the knob, Kol grunted for that gnawing pleasure. Quickly enough, he stopped as the door had been locked. He frowned wholeheartedly.
Good intuition to never trust a vampire, Benedetta.
With an intrusive stance and butchering of the knob, around the corner, Klaus and Rebekah had withered by and swiftly snatched their brother by the collar of his cloth. He jumped at the sudden contact, assuming he was once alone with Lady Benedetta.
He wasn't allowed the fraction of a word as his siblings wreathed him for his wrong doings.
"Now what do you think you're doing?" Klaus hissed, clutching and pinching the back of Kol's neck. His breath hot and voice voluminous.
Menacingly, Rebekah held onto Kol as well, shoving him forward and away from the polished door frame.
"Have you gone mad?" Kol sputtered, eyes splaying all around.
Scoffing in disbelief, Klaus roamed a stare towards his sister before placing a glare back onto Kol.
"Us?"
"I don't put it past Elijah to follow me, but the two of you?" He scorched his eyes, squinting them harshly against the pair, "What happened to our allegiance?" He threw his hands in the air with a sly expression.
Kol was dumbfounded by his sibling's appearances, but he should've known better than to think Elijah wouldn't have someone keep a watchful eye on him. His track record had never been the cleanest. He was a smug of a man, and even Rebekah could sense his arrogance and sarcasm.
"You don't listen, ever," groaning and rolling her eyes.
Kol grinned scathingly, "Pointing out the obvious now, are we?"
Smacking him upside the head, Klaus firmed his grip along his neck.
"Why were you there, Kol?"
Kol playfully winced, jerking his body back and forth. Trying to challenge Klaus, "You should look at your face, if I hadn't known better I would've thought you were fathe—"
Aggravatingly, and ruefully, Klaus lowered his gaze and sharpened his tightening grip around Kol's neck. He had no time for Kol and his childish antics. Slamming him against the wall, Klaus spat wickedly in his face.
"I'll ask again," his smile outstretching and demanding more respect, "why were you there?"
Rebekah, unnerved and silent, kept a vigilant gaze between both brothers while also having an alarmed sense for unsuspecting viewers. None of them wanted to cause a disturbance on the first night.
Emerging his eyes into his brothers, Klaus expected a dishonest response, but to his surprise, Kol dropped the arduous glare and wrested his body away from Klaus's taunting head tilt.
"I heard noises."
Rebekah creased her brows, arms stretched across her being, "From Benedetta's room?"
Kol nodded his head.
"As of obviousness, Bex."
She snapt a belittling scowl, "No need to be a dimwit. It could've been from anywhere."
Annoyed, Klaus intervened.
"What kind of noises?"
Kol shrugged his shoulders, unbothered by his assumptions, "Crying and tantrums of sorts."
Once more, he raised a laborious brow as Rebekah and Klaus analyzed each other as they only assumed for whatever reason Benedetta had been the one to cause such a scene.
"I also smelled blood," he truthfully stated, his eyes bleeding into his siblings. He would've never joked about such a satisfaction.
That caused them both to snap their necks in Benedetta's direction, beyond mad for knowing Kol could've done something of a heinous crime.
"Blood?" They questioned, chilling spirals ripping forth their skin. In itch and craving for some.
"Blood," he curtly and nonchalantly replied.
Rebekah scoffed, a smugly and snakily tone chiding Kol, "Then thank the saints we were following you, who knows what the hell you would've done."
Kol rolls his head, throwing his shoulders up in an exasperated expression, "I was merely curious."
Klaus scowled, "Curious enough for a disturbance? You want to be the reason we leave, again?"
Kol snarled, stalking closer, "Come along now, brother, I wasn't the reason for our latest departure." He heavily breathed, mad and peeved.
Klaus prominently displayed a haughty huff, "No? Your massacre of trailing bodies in the village wasn't your doing? My mistake," he dauntingly moved his head to the side, "must have been my other demented brother."
Snappily, Kol held onto Klaus and impelled him against the wall, roaring and choking him in rage. Rebekah wickedly grasped an evil hand around Kol, pulling him off Klaus as she then shoved him into the ground, keeping a firm and steady grip along his throat.
"Do not step out of line, Kol!" She hollered, her eyes pleading with him. She didn't want this to be their lives; on a constant repeat.
With clatter and shattering sounds, I hear a noise outside my room. I know it isn't Inej or Kael, as it's way past their prime to be out of their quarters. I knew their pastime thoughtfully.
As I yank my bristled fingers against the heavy metal, I manage to unlatch myself and scurry towards the door. Though I suppose my efforts weren't as swift as I had once originally thought. As I open my door, my collapsing and fevered self wobbles out.
Weakly, I venture out, craning my neck in a wistful manner to get a glimpse of what exactly was causing a disturbance. I wasn't so disappointed to notice that there was no one outside my chambers. It could've been my damned imagination again.
I hummed an impolite and dissatisfied tune as I whirled back inside, tending to my bedside table. I was to never be out of my restraints, but I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I reeked of death.
I made my first killing be upon my wretched self. Kael may never have this power over me; of such intimacy and integrity when it came to serving your own self to death.
I dreaded the agonizing glimpse I gave myself, peering within the broken and hazardous glass before me.
I died that night. Right in that moment.
It was sickly silent, my whimpering yelps and juddering tears as I followed through with the hollow victories that consisted of my gore and rare douses of blood. I welled myself of cries as I fell over, my back colliding against the floor and my head sputtering rabidly.
I died once more. Though this time, I awoke with my head dug into the wooden table and my left hand latched and locked along the sturdy railings.
Horrified, the mirror was perfectly showcasing my dreadful gaze. No cracks, no blood-spitting images reflected upon me. I remained the same as I did a few hours prior.
Polished and clean from scars. I no longer resembled a weeping widow.
May Kael never hold this power over me.
a/n:
Okay, so I'm explaining the ending here for anyone who may be confused! Benedetta did kill herself, I didn't go into specifics of how she did it, not necessarily finding that sacrifice important. However, the reason she had did it was because she had freed herself from her restraints, in which Kael and Inej don't know she knows how to do. So given that she broke that rule placed by them, she killed herself in order to be placed back into the chains as she once was before she had her meltdown.
More will come about as to how Benedetta cannot die, but that's for a conversation between her and Elijah, so you must wait till then. Until that, I do give out hints here and there to encourage people to guess!
Anyways, thank you for reading! Take care <33