Panic! At the Disco- Emperor's new clothes. Not my image but I liked it in the spirit of Halloween and all :)
Sebastian's POV
Alexander: Your sister just tripped "Turkey" The Armory is moving now
The message makes my eyes widen slightly. The word was used for a variety of things. None of them good. Rarely did The League get that word in a message. I was sure the last time the code word was sent by my sister's hand, it was in writing. Rode on horseback to deliver it.
Francis immediately frowns when my small change of facial expression comes about. He knew me as the professional older brother. Therefore, even the smallest change in my posture is significant.
I drop the Mug in the sink, and briskly walk towards the front door, pulling my coat off the hook and over my button up as swift as a fly. "What's going on?" Simon asks, nosy as ever.
Francis looks from the Italian to me, waiting patiently.
"Alex has alerted me that 'Turkey' Has been tripped." I announce simply, without much emotion except concern. Not for my half sister. Merida could very much handle herself. As much as I've planned and protected and kept tabs on her moves since we've arrived in the States, I was confident that she'd come out the over side dripping with her enemies blood with a dark smile on her face.
As always.
Though, Francis didn't share my confidence because Immediately he pulls a shirt over his head, his blonde curls still wet from a shower. "Merida is in trouble." He replies, panic slowly meeting his words.
"Merida is in trouble." Simon repeats slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement that neither of the brothers paid attention to. Simon always did have a strange taste of humor.
"The League has activated the standby Armory." I add, meeting the frantic blue eyes of my little and only brother.
"We have to... We have to save her." Francis says, pulling on his shoes, and fixing his jeans over them. I take a breath, shaking my head.
"Talk to Klaus. Or Marcel. They know this city better than we can." I order. Francis jumps to his feet.
"No! We have-"
"France." I cut him off, my deathly calm voice and mannerisms the only thing keeping him sane. Of all of us, he and Merida had been the closest. I was happy to see the problem of our mother's death did not change that after all. "Merida will be fine. A thousand years and she hasn't died. Now, talk to Marcel. It's Halloween. Hundreds of innocents will be caught in the crossfire between The League and Zetrov if we don't control the situation." I set a hand on his shoulder. "Can you do this?"
Hesitantly, he nods. "And you?"
"I'm going to find Cain's Sword. It's a threat to Merida, and if Zetrov gets their hands on it, she's as good as dead." I clarify, taking a deep breath. As soon as he approves of my next action, Francis is darting out the door at top speeds.
"I'll come with you." Simon offers, standing up and putting his plate aside. Half eaten bagel on it. I look him up and down. Despite his carefree attitude and failure at being serious, if just for one minute, he's still stronger than most of the vampires we'll come across today.
He'd be a useful couple hands, so I nod soundlessly. "Let's go."
---
Merida's POV
I stagger onto the street, pulling myself to my feet, clenching my jaw when the multiple holes in my tights become apparent. "Zetrov owes me all kinds of refunds." I grind out between my teeth, my fangs puncturing my lip. The whites of my eyes glimmered red, and the contrast made my pale bright blue eyes seem to glow.
I find myself in an alley. The shadows of the sun throwing me into shade, preventing my vampire skin from burning, though it already felt like it was. The disease had crawled everywhere now, and I was itching like crazy.
My shoulder ached where it was healing inside, but the stitches were gone. The outside had healed but inside it throbbed with the efforts I've already exerted today. Across the street of the ghost town, or a town that resembled one, I saw a pay phone. My hopes were crushed though, as it was in the sun. For the third time in a thousand years I was a slave to the sunlight.
I can't explain how powerless that felt. How vulnerable.
Would the sun kill me? Only the sword is supposed to kill me, but I didn't like the prospect of burning alive either. Even if I don't actually die.
I groan, sucking in a breath. I'd have to go from alley to alley until I found a better opportunity to reach out.
My entire body felt like it was decomposing. My skin crawled. My muscles spasmed. My blood pulsed in my ears. It felt like dying, for sure. It'd been quite a while since I had a disease.
Well, are wolf bites considered a disease? If that's so, then not as long as I thought, actually.
That reminded me strikingly of Kol. I could call him. He'd find me, wherever this little deserted town was. Not completely deserted. Sure, there was an occasional car that rolled down the street at a lazy pace. The through had crossed my mind to compel a driver to pass his keys over, but that would include going into the sunlight.
The entire street was plastered with sunlight. Hot, sunlight. I couldn't quite understand why. New Orleans was actually overcast this morning. And it was October. So unless I was out of state-
Fuck.
"Neck Snap, Kidnapping, Dislocation, and a flesh eating disease." I throw my arms out, casting my eyes up to the blue sky. "For the love of Protestants, why today?"
Couldn't this have waited until I wore something black? Because now my white patterned dress and tights and red shoes were all dirty and gross.
Once blood touches white material, there's no fixing it.
I stay in that alley, until the sun moves across the sky and finally, after several hours, can I run across the street, burning on the way. I reach the pay phone, that was now casted in shade, and dial Sebastian's phone.
No answer. I stick another Quarter in, one I found in the alley. Punching in numbers and waiting, feeling light-headed and nauseous. Probably from that disease that was eating it's way to my bones. I hold the phone to my ear, waiting as it dials. "Come on you Son of a-"
"Hello?" Simon's voice comes over the phone. I breath a sigh of relief.
"Simon, it's Merida.. I need you to tell my brother... I'm..." I look around, pulling a newspaper and reading the title. "Sanger. Texas. I'm in Texas." I gasp at the realization.
"Yes, and without your ring." Simon adds over the phone. I frown, furrowing my eyebrows together at his voice. Not the normal joking one. This one was so darkly humorous that I thought for a moment I had called the wrong number. Did I mention I didn't have my ring?
'Kill him... Kill him now.' Niklaus's voice chimes into my ear. That urgent way that he told me only last night. My heart seems to stop.
"Simon, where's my brother?" I ask, believing that they were still in the flat together. With Francis and his floppy feathery hair. Waiting for the three girls to return from a fun day out at the festivities.
"You are quite dighted, aren't you?" The Italian replies. I shake my head, though somewhat relieved his voice was back to stupidly amused and jokingly. "Your brother is dead, Merida. And so will you be if you try to stop Zetrov from opening the gate." Then fury over takes me. Fear, mixed with fury.
"You bastard." I hiss, growling such an animalistic noise that seemed to vibrate the entire phone booth.
"No, there's only one bastard between us, and it's not me."
"How could you do this?" I ask in dismay.
"Did you actually think I still had feelings for you? You died, giving birth to our heir. The Merida I fell in love with died a thousand years ago and what was born was a monster." The Sicilian Prince cut into me with his words. I blink rapidly, feeling the burning behind my eyes. "Why do you think I agreed to fake my death and leave you as the Queen?"
"You're Zetrov." My voice came out calm. I wasn't calm. I was livid. I was going to kill him. I was going to rip his heart out, and savor those few moments after where he looked at me and saw his heart in his hands before he died.
I was going to rip out his intestines and feed them to him. "Let me give you a piece of advice, Simon Cipriano." I add, calmly and without rush. "Run."
Then I hang up.
---
I'm plopped onto the sidewalk of New Orleans. Onoskelis beside me. I wince. "Teleporting is terrible." I make out with my Scottish accent.
"Zetrov's agents are raining down on this city. The League is here, and due to your activation, tension is causing conflict. When I say conflict, I mean hundreds have already died. The War has started and this city is the battlefield." Onoskelis says, staring off across the street. I rub the back of my neck, still feeling whip lash from the teleporting. It was fast. One minute I'm in Texas and the next I'm here.
But the side effects are terrible. Not worth the trouble, really. "Simon mentioned that Zetrov plans on opening the gates?" I cough out, standing up and scratching my arms, which were still bloody. Thankfully though, I was in the shade. "Please don't tell me it's th-"
"Gates of Hell." Skelly beats me to it. I rub my head.
"They must have something on him. Forcing him to work for them.." I trail off, and then a sharp sting hits my cheek. I gape, looking up at Onoskelis, my hand flying to my cheek. "Did you just slap me!?"
"Get it together. You're a Queen. Take betrayals in stride and reciprocate ten-fold. Zetrov has to wait until midnight to start the ritual, so make yourself useful until then. Cain still has the sword, but he's running with it. Everyone knows he's alive by now." Skelly hisses unflinchingly. The cold sting on my cheek reflected the cold air around us, caused by the presence of a demon.
"There's a word for what you just did." I feel rage bubble inside me. "It's called being a bitch."
"That's three words. I'll see you when the sun goes down." Then she vanishes like before.
I grit my teeth, pulling my denim jacket down, though it was a bit bloody. In fact, blood was here and there from head to toe, but no one even commented on it. It was Halloween and fake blood was thick in the air. Tourists wore it smeared on their skin. Artists face painted with it. It repulsed me.
Everyone in the streets was celebrating when in reality World War III was about to commence.
As my icy eyes rake the crowd they grow dark again with hunger. A side-effect of the disease that rattled my brain. My eyes land on someone on the other side walk, and he was staring back at me. It was impossible to tell who it was, or what he was in the open.
So I strode down the sidewalk, tearing my eyes from the man's, and heading towards the Mikaelson Compound. Or my flat. I didn't know but they were in the same direction and that's the direction I went.
The man followed. I could feel it. I threw my chin up, and kept going. Whoever it was, was about to meet their maker.
Minutes later I burst through the door of the flat, finding it in ruins for the second time since I've lived here in New Orleans. The first being when I fought my older sister.
I kick over the coffee table, then shout into the apartment louder than I needed to. "Whoever think this is funny is about to wish their mama never opened her legs!" I flip the dining table, everything on it, including the wilting vase of white roses that I'd gotten from Cecilia, goes skyward before falling and shattering onto the ground.
"Merida?" Ashley creeps out of the hallway, looking at me in fear. I probably looked scary as Hell. Blood soaked, fangs out, eyes dark and hungry. I was a predator and she was human. I scan the room.
"Who else is here?" I demand. She rubs her eyes furiously, and I assume it's from relief at seeing a familiar face.
"No one. When I got here it was like this." She walks over to me, and I could see her trembling. Immediately, I soften. "I don't know where Francis or Bash is or... Or Simon. No one was here and... And..." She stutters, on the verge of tears.
Poor thing. She came here to clean up after her brother, who's death was my fault. Instead she got this hectic world that I dragged her into. Like her brother. But unlike her brother, I'd never let her die because of me.
I pull her towards me, grabbing her arm with my sticky palm that was still slick with blood. "You're going to be fine." I promise, and pull her down the stairs. Where I meet the man who had followed me. I push Ashley behind me, looking at the man. He wasn't a vampire.
He wasn't a witch or a wolf. Instead, he brought a coldness to me. One that made me shiver. "Demon." I mutter, and take no hesitation. I reach forward with both my hands, easily grabbing his head and bringing it down with a force so strong. Pulling my knee up and hearing his nose crack. He drops a moment to the floor but gets up again.
This gives me just enough time to pull Ashley by him, opening the door. "Go across the street." I order.
"What about you?"
"I can't. The sun, now go!" I give her a push, turning around right as I'm tackled. Pulling my body down with a thump. I scramble to my feet, the choking scent of cold sulfur hitting my senses and suffocating me. I hold my breath, blocking out the smell of rotten eggs.
As he comes at me, a knife in his hand, I grab his arm and flip him over onto his back. "I'm guessing you're not an assassin." I hiss, then tear his head off. Ashes and dark blood spilling from the body. "If you were, you'd be so much better at fighting."
I drop his head and his body, then start towards the door, right as I hear a rustling noise. I turn around, and before my eyes, his head reattaches. Slightly deformed now. "Miles." The man says in a graveling voice. A hell voice. Once that was dusty from use.
"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Latin. Soldier." I laugh to myself. "Of course you are." Then I launch myself at him.
I ended up shutting the demon into Sebastian's room. It was the closest I could get too. He felt impossible to kill and the more I killed him the more exasperated I became, so instead I just tied him up.
I didn't know if he was Zetrov or if he was someone else and frankly, it didn't matter to me. He tried to attack me, and that labels him bad.
When the sun sinks to the point where the streets in New Orleans is cast in shadow, I strut into the Mikaelson Compound.
Elijah meets me, as usual. "Ashley is with Rebekah. France told us what happened." And as if on queue, my eyes burn. 'You brother's dead'. All I wanted at that moment was to see my family. Because one of them could very well be dead. Simon is as strong as any of us, and if he's been working with Zetrov all along he's highly trained too.
"Francis." I wobble, and this time not because of the disease in my body, which had started to ebb away, but because of the despair that had suddenly hit me like a wave. "Where is he." My question didn't sound like a question. It was a demand and Elijah's facial expression said he recognized mine. Perhaps what I was currently battling in my mind.
In moments Francis comes down the stairs with Kol. As soon as my littlest brother sees me he's at my side, delicately holding my elbows and looking at the blood on my dress and skin in concern.
"It's not mine." I assure him, and pull him into a bone crushing hug, because I felt like my world was slowly shattering. "Where's Simon?" I ask Francis in a whisper, still holding onto him tight, his white cotton tee shirt gripped in my red fingers.
"He went with Sebastian. Bash is looking for the sword, to make sure you're safe." Francis answers. I shake my head, pulling away. Out of my peripheral vision I could spot Niklaus, with someone else but I couldn't make out who. I look up at Francis. His wide dark blue eyes. His curling golden hair. His gold freckles to match.
"Simon is working with Zetrov." I look down, dropping my hands. "And he..." I trail off. 'Kill him. Kill him now.' rings in my head. Why didn't I listen? He's not the same vampire I knew a millennial ago. Was a really blinded with those story telling and jokes? The carefree attitude?
"No. Simon wouldn't hurt you." Francis replies.
"I'm going to kill him." I whisper.
There was no point in telling him that Sebastian could be very well dead. There was no point.
Length: 3010 words