#how long did gabriel have that coffin ready in the basement. how much time did he spend building it. did nathalie help.

[anna-scribbles]

do you think émilie agreste knew, on the day she became too weak to leave that house, that she never would again

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3 

--

This investigation was not going well. 

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets. 

It was wrong. 

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it. 

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside. 

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt. 

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?” 

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.” 

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!” 

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped. 

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.” 

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?” 

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.” 

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!” 

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it. 

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time. 

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public. 

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.” 

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu. 

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways. 

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember. 

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above. 

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’. 

‘Basement’, in French.   

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse. 

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!” 

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.” 

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell. 

Of course, the door was locked. 

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.” 

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked. 

“...um, yes, apparently.” 

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned. 

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.” 

“Anything for you, Marinette!” 

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life. 

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting. 

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught. 

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her. 

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing. 

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.” 

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms. 

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were. 

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd. 

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.” 

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.” 

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.     

It was the worst three hours of her life. 

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting. 

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again. 

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.” 

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?” 

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.” 

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly. 

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong. 

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!” 

“They can’t do that.” 

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!” 

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie. 

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.” 

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?” 

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.” 

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

 Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion. 

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him. 

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now. 

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?” 

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.” 

“Sealed?” 

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.” 

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.” 

“Good for you.” 

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“ 

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.” 

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him. 

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived. 

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope. 

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.” 

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment. 

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink. 

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her. 

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care. 

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought? 

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted. 

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun. 

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?” 

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift. 

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was. 

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.” 

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious. 

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once. 

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid. 

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix. 

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.” 

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.” 

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?” 

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?” 

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment. 

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.” 

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly. 

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.” 

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed. 

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!” 

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong. 

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded. 

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.” 

Marinette wished he had. 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed. 

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.” 

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.” 

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.” 

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.” 

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office. 

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though. 

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone. 

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years. 

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask. 

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

[theworkofxanderking]

Dracula: The Originals (Fanfiction)

Chapter Two: Battle Lines

Warnings: I do not own the original content to “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries” or “Legacies” or any of the characters from the television shows.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

New Orleans, 1722

It had been almost 2 and a half centuries since Klaus, Rebekah, Elijah and Kol Mikaelson spent that one fateful night in the Transylvanian castle belonging to Count Dracula and neither Mikaelson had seen of Dracula or his brides since although they heard many stories as the myth of Dracula grew larger almost as large as the original vampires themselves which only served to saturate Klaus’ obsession with Dracula.

During his tedious investigative work into Dracula and the brides he claimed Klaus learned that Dracula was witch-vampire hybrid made possible due to his siphoning nature as Klaus assumed Dracula must have had some of his bloods after learning Kol had not so literally handed the brides his own blood to make them what was known as heretics.

Klaus had never come across anyone who had claimed to know any understanding of him until the day he came across Dracula and since that fateful night he had never found another. Sure, he had romances, flings and loves during his seven centuries on this earth but he had never found someone who he believed could truly understand him and this had him intrigued for 2 and a half centuries without any wavering of interest.

Little did he or his siblings know that a reunion with Dracula would lead to a war for the city the Mikaelson’s had claimed as their home.

Long before the Mikaelson’s boat arrived in New Orleans the place had become somewhat of a haven for witches and werewolves thank to a peace treaty kept in place by witch regent Gabrielle LaRue and self-proclaimed wolf king Abel Kenner.

In time they allowed humans to join the peace treaty allowing a human representative Pastor Andreas Labonair into their peace treaty and humans, witches, and werewolves lived relatively quietly in mostly harmony, but nothing could prepare them for the arrival of the family of original vampires.

Klaus knew if he was to claim New Orleans, he had to eliminate any potential distractions to his master plan which meant daggering his chaotic youngest brother Kol and putting his body in a coffin next to their oldest brother Finn.

Elijah was desperate for Klaus to claim New Orleans as his so-called throne as Elijah saw this as an opportunity for him and his siblings to finally call somewhere home once again and set about turning as many humans as possible turning them into compelled undead allies of his family in the process knowing that with enough vampires they would eventually need representation a role which his brother Klaus was eager to accept.

Rebekah even found herself helping her brothers hoping that keeping Klaus busy would be beneficial to her having some sort of life and the prospect of a love her older brother didn’t wind up murdering before marriage. She set about New Orleans looking for secrets the kind of secrets that could used against their owner to her family’s advantage and succeeded one night after hearing rumors of Pastor Andreas Labonair being a werewolf only to later confirm it with her own eyes one moon shining night in a church basement.

Klaus had come up with the master plan to take New Orleans, Elijah had provided him with enough allies to form an army if needed be and Rebekah was ready to out secrets of anyone that opposed them.

New Orleans was there’s for the taking or at least that is what they believed not realizing while Abel, Gabrielle and Andreas played dutiful to the original siblings that they were secretly plotting their downfall not realizing their attempts to save New Orleans from one terror would only serve to unleash another.

Klaus had gathered Abel, Gabrielle and Andreas down to a warehouse near the port of New Orleans where they had their usual bi-weekly meetings to discuss each faction’s needs, responsibilities, concerns and fears although since Klaus had taken over the meetings it was mostly him demanding more and more from the others while continuing to boast about his growing population of vampires at the hands of himself, Rebekah and Elijah.

“You already have property within this area why on earth should we allow you to acquire more?” Gabrielle asked the original vampire as Klaus, herself, Abel and Andreas sat down at a table placed within the dark and damp warehouse.

“I was not asking for permission I was merely informing you that I’ve acquired some space and my vampires have begun work on the property.” Klaus revealed. “It’s a much more fitting location for my siblings and I.”

“Since you have arrived the human numbers are dwindling, fatal casualties have risen and hostility between witches, werewolves and vampires are at an all time high.” Pastor Andreas Labonair told him. “You have brought nothing but misery to Mystic Falls and quite frankly we’ve had enough of it.”

“I am not going to sit here and listen to human rights from a self-loathing werewolf.” Klaus snapped. “You will all smile while I go about my business and if you dare defy me, I’ll kill you all and everybody you’ve ever met.”

“We are not scared of you anymore Niklaus Mikaelson!” Gabrielle LaRue said defiantly as she stood from her chair. “The witches have lived under your reign of terror for too long I won’t allow it any longer and nor will I allow my children to grow up in a world where we kneel before some abomination.”

“I’d be very careful of your next words!” Klaus warned her after rising from his chair. “Or on the other hand don’t I do enjoy killing witches after all.”

“You are no longer our vampire representative,” Abel admitted as he and Andreas both stood up. “We have sought out another vampire more fitting of the role.”

“Who the bloody hell could be more fitting than an original vampire?” Klaus shouted in fury.

“A vampire who is more than a mere vampire, a witch who is more than a mere witch.” Dracula stated in his Hungarian accent after vamp speeding his way into the warehouse. “It’s nice to see you again Niklaus Mikaelson it has been far too long.”

Klaus stood there completely speechless by Dracula’s arrival that night he had longed to be reunited with the man behind many myths the man that lured him and his siblings into a trap two and a half centuries ago and now he had been reunited with his one time lover he wanted nothing more than to rip his bloody head off and make him suffer for ever daring to take his kingdom from him.

Kol Mikaelson had found himself daggered by his older brother Klaus once again despite how many times he had been daggered by his brother Klaus always had a way of surprising him each time.

However, this particular coffin spell proved to be one of the shortest as he found himself awaking in his coffin the color returning to his body before sitting up to find himself in an underground cellar and instantly recognizing the brunette beauty who was stood across from him holding the very dagger that was recently in his chest.

“Well this is certainly an interesting turn of events,” Kol said to her as he climbed out of his coffin. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but we have met before, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have only both of us were wearing a lot less materials.” The brunette bride replied with a flirty smile. “My name is Zsofia Benedek the bride of Dracula, the first bride of Dracula.”

“And why may I ask have you freed me from my imprisonment at the hands of my bastard brother?” Kol asked Zsofia.

“Well for one we started a little dance I intend to finish,” Zsofia revealed before she vamp sped over to Kol, close enough their bodies were almost touching. “My husband also has an opportunity for you one that will grant you revenge on that bastard brother of yours.”

“Consider me well and truly intrigued.” Kol said with a smile before passionately kissing Zsofia.

Zsofia and Kol continued to kiss passionately as Zsofia pushed him up against his coffin before Kol vamp sped with her across the cellar slamming her against the cellar wall as he began kissing her neck and tearing at her clothing as she began tearing at his.

“You have some nerve coming to my home and attempting to claim my throne.” Klaus snapped at Dracula as it was only the two of them that were left standing in the warehouse.

“Oh, please I’m not here to play king or involve myself in any of this nonsense I’ve been a king before, and the crown may have fitted nicely but it only led to the beginning of an eternity of death and despair.” Dracula explained to him. “I’m hardly a fan of the undead or witches and yet I find myself both. However, I am somewhat a fan of yours.”

“If you’re such a fan of mine then why the bloody hell are you trying to take my city from me?” Klaus shouted as he stormed his way over to be face to face with Dracula.

“Because Niklaus Mikaelson you are a worthy opponent and last time I encountered you I had the unfair advantage.” Dracula replied with a wicked smile. “My brides are my companions the only light in my never-ending darkness, but you make me feel like setting light to that darkness and along with it the world.”

“If you think you can trick me, I swear I’ll take great joy in removing you from your eternal darkness and straight into a bloody coffin.” Klaus warned the prince of darkness.

“There’s no trickery this time around Niklaus merely just a test,” Dracula admitted to him. “You want this place to be your home then prepare for a war if you win I’ll leave never to return if you don’t kill me of course and if I win I burn this place to the grounds and you leave with me as my first groom.”

“You are well and truly completely insane.” Klaus said in shock before looking at Dracula with his devilish grin. “Consider me well and truly ready for war.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to turn down a good proposal.” The undead Count chuckled away to himself.

“Just so you know I don’t play fair in war,” Klaus replied as he grabbed Dracula by the waist and pulled him in for a kiss. “It’ll be a shame to have to kill you in the end, but I’ll make sure to make this a battle you’ll never forget.”

“Now Niklaus no pre-showings before the wedding.” Dracula laughed as he brushed Klaus’ arms off his waist. “Although I never was one for keeping a tradition.”

Dracula and Klaus began passionately kissing each other and tearing at each other’s clothes before vamp speeding over to the table in which Dracula threw Klaus down and began kissing his way down Klaus’ toned and muscly chest causing Klaus to groan in pleasure louder with each kiss Dracula placed on him the kisses going lower and closer towards the original vampire’s waist.

Elijah looked out of the window of the Mikaelson family home, which was located on the outskirts of New Orleans, the same home from season one although more fitting to the era of 1772. Upon looking out the window in the living room area he saw a blonde-haired beauty standing in the garden looking straight at him with a knowing smile before waving at the Mikaelson brother without fear which amused Elijah tempting him outside.

“We don’t get many women stalking our home especially considering most of New Orleans are terrified of me and my siblings.” Elijah said upon opening the front door of his home and walking over to the blonde-haired beauty.

“I’ve seen many horrors in my life, and you are one of the more pleasing to my eyes.” She admitted to him. “You’re the noble Mikaelson am I correct?”

“That has been said once or twice, who are you?” Elijah asked her.

“My name is Evike Arvay and for the last two and a half centuries I have been one of Dracula’s brides.” The blonde-haired bride revealed. “Dracula is a cruel and tedious husband more like a master than a companion and I need your family’s help to rid me of him once and for all.”

“Why on earth would you come to me and my siblings for help?” Elijah quizzed.

“Dracula has arrived in New Orleans eager to claim it as his own only to burn it to the ground for his own amusement and destroy your family in the process,” Evike replied leaving Elijah no time to adjust to the news. “I’ve heard that you Mikaelson’s value family above all else.”

“And what do tell do you value most of all?” Elijah asked her, uncertain whether to trust this stunning yet mysterious bride of Dracula.

“Freedom and revenge.” She admitted causing Elijah to smile at her honesty.

“You should come inside and fill me in on everything Mrs Arvay.” Elijah said to her.

“Call me Evike I am nobody’s Mrs.” Evike replied.

Rebekah walked into the Rousseau’s bar which design was very fitting of the 17th century era but at the same time had similarity to what it looked like throughout The Originals TV show. She spotted a red woman girl sat in a booth and found herself immediately drawn to her walking over to sit down next to the mysterious red headed woman she had never seen in New Orleans before.

“Not many women roam New Orleans without a suitor present well except for the witches.” Rebekah said to her. “Although I’ve made it my everything to know every witch who resides within this city and you are a new face.”

“That’s because I’ve only just arrived here Rebekah and I’m not your typical kind of witch.” The redheaded bride replied to her noticing the original vampire’s shock at her knowing her name. “Don’t be so surprised miss Mikaelson that people know of you and your siblings after all you have are the original undead family.”

“Fair point, what do you mean when you say your not a normal witch?” Rebekah asked her.

“My name is Wilhelmina Helsing I am what is considered to be a bride to the infamous Count Dracula I believe the two of you have met before.” Wilhelmina revealed herself to the original female vampire.

“You’re one of the three brides that got the better of my foolish brother Kol two and a half centuries ago,” Rebekah realized. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume all his brides are heretics like himself.”

“You are correct I always told my husband you were the smartest Mikaelson, but he seems to have some morbid fascination with your brother Niklaus.” Wilhelmina explained to her. “I do love my husband dearly he freed me from a miserable existence, but I desire much more than to be somebody’s bride.”

“What exactly do you desire Wilhelmina?” Rebekah asked her curious to know the answer.

“This city,” She replied with a sinister smirk. “Dracula and Niklaus will destroy New Orleans long before they’ve finished their romantic little dance in the darkness whereas I’d rather lay claim to it. After all Dracula is no older a vampire than I nor is he any more powerful a witch than any of his brides why can’t I become this city’s queen?”

“Your delusional if you think myself or my siblings would ever allow anyone to take claim of our home.” Rebekah warned the redheaded bride.

“I guess you haven’t been informed that the battle for New Orleans has already begun,” Wilhelmina informed her as she stood up from her seat. “Boys are nothing more than children and they’ll gladly burn their toys instead of allowing others to play with them it’s our mission as women to teach them how to behave.”

“And how exactly do you intend to teach them?” Rebekah quizzed her as she too stood up from her seat.

“One bride is foolish following her master’s orders while the other plots to murder our husband I on the other hand have a much more delicate plan for both my husband and your brother one that includes neither of us having to ever wield again to any man!” Wilhelmina declared. “Tell me Rebekah are you tired of falling onto a dagger every time you dare to disagree with your brother?”

Dracula had set his sights on Klaus his brunette bride Zsofia had freed Kol and aligned herself with him while his deceiving brides Evike and Wilhelmina were seemingly plotting against their husband.

One thing was for sure neither Dracula nor his brides were to be fully trusted although after over seven hundred years of squabbling the Mikaelson’s didn’t fully trust each other.

Kol wanted revenge for Klaus’ cruel ways towards him, Rebekah wanted freedom from her siblings, Klaus wanted the throne at all cost and Elijah wanted nothing more than for his siblings to be happy despite how difficult a task it had proved to be.

Kol and Zsofia just lay there on the ground of the abandoned cellar using their clothing as sheets to cover their naked bodies.

“I always imagined sleeping with an original would be an extraordinary experience, but I must admit that was truly beyond my wildest dreams.” Zsofia admitted as Kol climbed on top of her and began kissing her neck.

“I guess this Count Dracula isn’t too good between the sheets so to speak.” Kol replied with a cheeky smile before kissing Zsofia on the lips.

“My husband sees his brides more like sisters than wives,” Zsofia revealed. “He saved us all from terrible fates and he can save you too.”

“See that’s the problem my darling Zsofia,” Kol told her before launching his hand into her chest causing her to choke up blood while looking at her lover in shock. “I don’t need saving and when I seek revenge, I seek it family style no outsiders allowed.”

Before Zsofia had a chance to respond or even defend herself the original Mikaelson vampire had ripped out her heart and her body began to desiccate.