ELIJAH MIKAELSON
Original Vampire
Posts: 435
Age:
1046
Occupation:
Unemployed
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Tatia Petrova
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 20:43:14 GMT
|
Post by ELIJAH MIKAELSON on Oct 22, 2023 15:21:24 GMT
The handkerchief fluttered down to land on the man’s barrel chest, its once snowy folds now stained with smears of red. He’d have to order more from his tailor at this rate, or gloves, something to make the clean up easier. Elijah stood over the man, lifting each arm in turn to check his cuffs before glancing down at himself. Not a drop spilled anywhere else. He couldn’t say the same for the brute who had attempted to block his way into the building. Blood was already pooling beneath the man, scarlet trickles slowing as the hole in his chest turned into a still pool instead of the geyser it had been for the split second the body had taken to notice the heart was no longer beating in it. The offending organ itself had been dropped onto the man’s stomach and lay there as cold and useless as the man’s brain had been when he’d informed him that Mr Dacre was not taking visitors.
Elijah drew in a breath like he was drawing life back into his still form. He scanned the building around him, his nose wrinkling as he took the place in. The building was likely one of the most expensive in town - barring the mansions that littered its outskirts. An ostentatious show of money that would have the nouveau riche clamoring for an apartment in it. Leave it to Hector to have gotten his hands on the penthouse. From there he could both loom above the entire town and have the high ground against someone like Tristan. Unfortunately it might not be enough to protect him this time.
If there had been any witnesses to the one he’d dealt to the man who’d just been given his then they were now wisely silently, tucked away in the dark corners of this place, quiet as church mice. Elijah didn’t bother listening for them, his irritation had been sated the moment he’d felt the man’s heart still in his grip, just started across the expensive floor that would likely need refinishing after this. If the trajectory continued it would soon be blood snagging at the leather soles of his shoes, the tang in the air coppery, not perfumed.
Once in the elevator, rising up towards the top of the building – Elijah drew in a breath of the cleaner air. The panel over the door counted off the floors, finally pinging brightly when it reached the top. Elijah grimaced it, resisting the urge to shatter it as he stepped out into the hallway. His nerves were already fraying like the ends of ribbons – tattered by the virus.
Had it been in New York that he was exposed? The thing turning his self-control back to those fractious early days of what his mother had turned him into floating around in that polluted air? Perhaps. If it had been and wasn’t some targeted disease created by Tristan and the Strix cronies who were still clinging to his skirts, then he had not been the only one exposed. Either way he might not have been. Tristan had already warned Hector, those warnings passed on to him as though he hadn’t been aware of the danger the man posed here in this town. Even if he wasn’t involved Tristan de Martel would dance in joy when he realised that the man he had hated for centuries might finally be brought to his knees.
He inspected his knuckles one last time before he knocked on the apartment door. Manners eroded by the thing in his bloodstream, Elijah thumped a fist against the door a moment later. If it had been anywhere else he would have walked straight in, ignoring the convention of waiting for a welcome. There was a good chance Hector had placed the apartment in someone else's name, someone who'd be far away from here. Soon he doubted he would even care enough to have knocked first – he had already had to force himself back from attacking the woman he had sworn never to harm again, the one he loved, it would be a slippery slope from there. ”I take it you have replaced staff before,” he said dryly as the door finally opened. ”There is a mess downstairs you’ll need to find someone to clean up. We need to talk.” Without waiting for that invite, Elijah was already moving past Hector, trying to stroll into the man's home as though it were his own. Mikaelsons weren't exactly tolerant of refusals, but he'd always believed himself better than that.
|
|
HECTOR DACRE
Vampire
Posts: 237
Age:
765
Occupation:
Business Owner
Status:
Single
Played by:
Jodi
I made the devil run
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 21:11:04 GMT
|
Post by HECTOR DACRE on Oct 30, 2023 21:48:10 GMT
If only he could see himself through another person’s eyes he’d be shocked at his behaviour. As he stood in front of the mirror he barely recognised his own reflection. Unkept and borderline manic. Sleep was a thing of the past. The only thing that was keeping him going was violently killing people and he couldn’t rest in the meantime. Most days he was spent pacing his apartment, thinking about how he was going to kill his next victim. It wasn’t enough just tearing their throats open, he wanted something more. He wanted them to suffer. He no longer cared when the blood soaked the carpet in the hallway or ruined his white Egyptian bed sheets. His cleaner tried getting the stains out until he turned on her one morning. Now the whole apartment was in complete disarray. He tried to replace the cleaner, but the new one was dead within a few days. Hector actually tried his best not to kill this one because he despited doing his own laundry, but there was nothing that could hold him back. Not even the thought of doing his own laundry. The staff had noticed he’d been less present at the club, but no one had realised Hector was sick. He was tirelessly keeping up appearances with them, but it had started to slip a little. His mind was completely unravelling without Hector even knowing. Two females he brought back from the club the previous night were still in his apartment. Both of them were sitting on his couch. One without a head (which was lying on the dining room table in another room), the other compelled to keep quiet and watch television as Hector paced around the apartment for hours. Of course he wanted to kill her, but he was holding back because once she was dead he would be forced to go back outside to find someone else to kill. In the midst of it all he was trying to remain sensible. Many people had gone missing recently, most of them had last been seen with Hector. The apartment building was covered in CCTV. They were all seen entering his apartment, but never leaving. He informed the staff on the ground floor to turn away all visitors. Hector didn’t need someone walking into his home when it looked like a crime scene. They’d probably run out of little plastic yellow numbers marking out the blood. Someone had slipped past them though. He checked the camera to see Elijah outside. Before opening the door he grabbed a cashmere scarf off the coat hanger by his door to wipe his bloody hands. Some of it had already started to dry underneath his fingernails, but he ignored that. He pulled the door open, flashing Hector a wry smile. “Elijah.” Elijah was already entering Hector’s apartment. He’d always kept the apartment in his own name, which for the first time had just shot him in the foot. “My cleaner is currently… unavailable.” Thrown off Wickery bridge a few weeks ago. “If we must.” There was no need to invite Elijah to come inside and take a seat because he was already heading deeper into the apartment. “Excuse the… mess. As I said, my cleaner is unavailable.” With or without a cleaner Hector always kept his apartment looking immaculate. His former self would be raging to see how many expensive rugs had been saturated with blood and how many expensive shirts he had ruined. But there was no shame for him at that moment. He moved into the living room, throwing himself down on one of the vacant couches. One without a decapitated female. ELIJAH MIKAELSON |
|
ELIJAH MIKAELSON
Original Vampire
Posts: 435
Age:
1046
Occupation:
Unemployed
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Tatia Petrova
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 20:43:14 GMT
|
Post by ELIJAH MIKAELSON on Dec 3, 2023 18:46:21 GMT
Practically every move he’d made in the last thousand years, every decision, had been about keeping his family safe. Shattering the glimmering promises of a different sort of future, allowing others to do the same because an aching heart was nothing compared to what might be if tragedy was allowed to strike. The blood on his hands was excused, the monster inside of him remaining in disguise, because there were reasons for it all. What had happened to the man downstairs had no reason other than his absolute lack of patience, any care that he should’ve had over it now the thing that was tucked out of sight, out of reach of his conscience. If the man had just picked the phone up as he’d been ordered to, he would’ve been downstairs now, staring po-faced at whoever was next through the door.
What he’d almost done to Tatia had been harder to swallow. Guilt had risen, threatening to choke him as he’d realised just how close he’d come to losing her again. Apologies spilling out, dread filling the hollow that had opened up inside of him. With his hands shaking he’d reached out to his connections in New York, to everybody he could talk to here – the ones who were supposed to know what was going on in their world.
The virus he’d learned was spreading had slowly eroded the edges of his conscience until there wasn’t an ounce of guilt left for the man he’d dropped downstairs. Perhaps later the dam would break and it would come rushing back the way it had once done, but for now he didn’t care that he had killed an innocent – if irritating – young man, or that he was disturbing Hector at home. The warning had to be given, even if it might be a little too late.
Elijah’s nose wrinkled at the scent of blood in the air. It was too saturated to have been what lingered on his skin, some of it too old, the stench like meat left in the sun. ”I would suggest hiring another,” he muttered. ”Or at least getting one of your people from the club to deal with the problem. I doubt you would want the sheriff and her people looking too closely at what’s happened here.” And it was definitely beneath him to scrape up the remains. It wasn’t his doorstep he’d left them on after all.
Irritation flared like a match struck, leaving his lips thinning as he pressed them together. If we must. As though he had come here for his own sake. He had come here to warn the man who’d sat outside the coffee shop in New York and had tried to offer one to him about a man he knew was already scurrying around this town like the rat he had always been. Now would have been the perfect time for Tristan to try and make a move. There would haven’t been enough left of him for even his sister to recognise.
His step slowed as they reached Hector’s living room. This was the source of the slaughterhouse scent. Two women sat on the couch, one headless, the other too silent about it not to have been compelled. Elijah stared at them, dark eyes narrowed. The copper penny taste of blood filled his mouth, souring his expression as he looked back towards Hector. ”Is she one of them?” he asked lightly, one dark brow rising. ”I was coming to warn you, but it seems as though I may be too late.” This wasn’t the Hector he had known. The man was as fastidious as he was himself and this … this was sloppy.
”A virus is sweeping through the area. I thought perhaps I had picked it up somewhere in New York, but by the looks of things I’ve found the source. Did you know when you spoke to me? Is this a ploy all set up by Tristan?” Paranoia settled in the pit of his stomach as he moved towards Hector, looming over the man. ”Infect an Original, hope that it will wipe us out? A foolish hope. You may strip away our control, but it takes more than that to kill one of us. You can let Tristan know his plan has failed when he comes crawling around you again.” There was no doubt in his mind that Tristan would. Like a fly to shit, he would appear when the situation was at its worst, acting as though none of the filth would wipe off on him if he had others do his dirty work.
|
|
HECTOR DACRE
Vampire
Posts: 237
Age:
765
Occupation:
Business Owner
Status:
Single
Played by:
Jodi
I made the devil run
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 21:11:04 GMT
|
Post by HECTOR DACRE on Dec 19, 2023 22:02:15 GMT
He could only hire so many cleaners before someone noticed there was some serial killer on the loose who just targeted cleaners. It was a shame because he actually liked his original cleaner. She was always on time, politely and left his house smelling of lemon with a mixture of roses. There was no point trying to replace her. “The sheriff doesn’t know their left from right.” Otherwise they would have taken action against all these rouge killings years ago. Hector didn’t fear some random person in a fancy hat coming to his front door. What were they going to do? Arrest him? Hilarious. He had proven time and time again that he was above the law. They tried going after him in New York centuries ago, but he slipped through their fingers at the very last minute. The blood seeping from the headless girl was just about triggering Hector’s vampire instincts, but it wasn’t her blood he wanted. Feeding on someone brought him a brief moment of happiness, but killing them? It sparked every nerve ending in his body, bringing euphoria. “One of who? She’s someone from the club.” Which reminded him, he needed to find someone to wipe the CCTV of the girls leaving with him. His eyes bounced around the room, trying to find a pen and paper to jot that down, knowing in hours he’ll have forgotten because his mind will be consumed with murder. His attention was diverted back to Elijah though. The man was there to deliver a warning. Hector got to his feet, a frown on his face as Elijah spoke. A virus? One that Elijah was apparently infected with but now accusing Hector of purposely infecting him. “Elijah.” He started, as he ran one of his dry blood stained hands through his hair, standing mere inches in front of Elijah, “It is beyond insulting that you think I associate with a man like Tristan. I have standards. I washed my hands of him centuries ago.” Without realising Hector he started pacing the living room again. “So, what Elijah? You are saying I’m sick? Because I’m not. I’m perfectly fine” He suddenly came to a halt in front of Elijah again, “If you don’t believe me about Tristan then compel me to tell you the truth.” His dark eyes bore into Elijah’s, ready to spill the truth about his so called friendship with Tristan. ELIJAH MIKAELSON |
|
ELIJAH MIKAELSON
Original Vampire
Posts: 435
Age:
1046
Occupation:
Unemployed
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Tatia Petrova
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 20:43:14 GMT
|
Post by ELIJAH MIKAELSON on Jan 5, 2024 19:34:59 GMT
Many had undoubtedly looked at Liz Forbes and had seen nothing more than an empty-headed blonde, chosen for the way she looked in her uniform or some quota instead of her crack investigative skills. They would have bene wrong to underestimate her. It took more than a pretty smile to keep a lid on what went on in this town and she had been managing it for years, juggling the Founder’s Council and their attempts to stamp out the supernatural community that was flourishing under their noses and the larger part of her job. Elijah never would have expected Hector to be one of them, but he was scoffing about her skills already.
”If I were you I wouldn’t confuse secrecy for inaction,” Elijah warned, an edge to his voice. Perhaps the misstep would be deserved in Hector’s case – the blindfold he seemed to wear when it came to this town about to choke him. ”The sheriff might have to play dumb, but you wouldn’t be the first vampire to die at her hands.” A stake to the chest would kill almost any vampire, no matter how old or how delusional they were. The Sheriff could even temporarily incapacitate him with one, but he was not foolish – or weak – enough to give in to the baser instincts of their kind.
His gaze dropped down to his hands again, the cuffs that were still mostly white. At least he hadn’t given into them before. Whatever this thing was that seemed to be working through his system was undoing his mother’s lesson as though his grip was being peeled away from his self-control one finger at a time.
Elijah stared at Hector, his eyes narrowing as he watched the way the man’s gaze skittered around the room. He was antsy, the live wire feeling slithering over his own skin in a way he wished he could tear away. ”One of your cleaners, but I suppose not if you picked her up there,” he muttered. Hector, it seemed, was trying his own product in a way – take home a drunk girl, one less likely to start shrieking when things turned strange. Had nobody else in the building heard the noise? Even with compulsion this can’t have been silent. Most would have made certain it was, not looking to draw attention to their homes by spilling too much blood there. It was sloppy, something he never expected to associate with Hector, but everything he thought he knew about the man was crumbling through his fingers like flakes of dried blood.
How long did he have before he tumbled as far as Hector? Bodies strewn about the apartment, the horror he’d seen on Tatia’s face as he’d attacked her no longer stirring any emotion except for apathy. Was he already there? No, anger was simmering beneath his disregard for the man downstairs and the bodies up here. He merely stared at Hector as he said his name, not shifting an inch as the man approached. ”It’s not out of the realm of possibilities. At one time you were loyal to him and he’s spent time in your club, whispering in your ear. Has he not?” Protests might wipe some of the accusations away, but Hector himself had told him about Tristan’s visits there. Warnings he’d disregarded at the time, now paranoia seized them and all her could see was de Martel trying to end his family for good.
Smoothing one of his cuffs, Elijah huffed out a breath as Hector began to pace the room. He had to have been sick not to see the state he was in. The laugh rolled out cold, the lines of his face going hard as he stared at Hector. ”This is fine?” he asked, gesturing to the bodies. ”When was the last time you did this? Let me guess, right around the last time you were friendly with Tristan? Something is happening to me and it only started after I spoke to you in New York. Do you believe that’s a coincidence?” Stepping closer, Elijah stared into Hector’s equally dark eyes. ”What do you know of Tristan’s plans for this town?” he asked, his voice sharp as he compelled the younger vampire. Perhaps one threat had nothing to do with the other, but Elijah felt anger welling volcanic hot in his chest all the same.
|
|
HECTOR DACRE
Vampire
Posts: 237
Age:
765
Occupation:
Business Owner
Status:
Single
Played by:
Jodi
I made the devil run
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 21:11:04 GMT
|
Post by HECTOR DACRE on Jan 14, 2024 21:07:08 GMT
Hector had lived for too long to be taken out by a human. Death has almost come for him on many occasions, even at his own hand when he was plagued with the hunter's curse. Regardless, no sheriff was going to come looking for Hector. The girls he had taken weren’t locals either, so their family weren’t going to be looking for them just yet. It would buy him enough time to dispose of their bodies. “Noted.” He responded with a tight smile, not agreeing with Elijah’s comments. If she was one of the cleaners Hector would have compelled her to clean his apartment before killing her. There was still time though. Her heart was still thudding in her chest, a nice steady pace as she had no idea what was going on. He’d told her to be silent and calm. There was an itch brewing beneath his skin though, desperate to rip the girl’s head off, but not yet. It would be rude to do that in front of a company. He dug his nails deep into the palms of his hands in an attempt to focus on that rather than the urge to murder. The desire was only directed towards the girl, not Elijah, which was weird. Every other supernatural that had crossed into his apartment Hector had been wanting to kill them. But then Hector wanted to kill Elijah for a whole other list of reasons, especially when the conversation circled back round to Tristan. “No, he has not. He came in to ask about Aurora, threatened me and left.” It was a five minute interaction, if that. Tristan didn’t even attempt to bark orders at Hector. “And no. I wasn’t loyal to him, I was loyal to you. I left The Strix shortly after you stepped down because there was no bloody way I was going to listen to that lunatic.” A decision that could still cost him his life, but members of The Strix hadn’t come knocking at his door. The anger was rising inside of him, driven by his need to kill the girl but directed towards Elijah. For a brief moment realisation hit home when he studied his surroundings. He couldn’t recall the last time he had lost control of himself like this. “Early thirteen hundreds maybe.” He muttered quietly as he stared at the blood stained rug. But he snapped out of it, his attention back on Elijah as he compelled Hector to tell him the truth about Tristan’s plans. “Nothing. He asked me about Aurora’s boyfriend then left.” Hector had always felt uncomfortable with the fact there were vampires out there who could compel him. A few questions from Elijah would have Hector slipping his deepest darkest secrets. ELIJAH MIKAELSON |
|
ELIJAH MIKAELSON
Original Vampire
Posts: 435
Age:
1046
Occupation:
Unemployed
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Tatia Petrova
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 20:43:14 GMT
|
Post by ELIJAH MIKAELSON on Feb 9, 2024 19:33:44 GMT
Plenty had dismissed his warnings before and had died for it – not always at his own hands. If Hector chose not to listen this time and carried on this – Elijah frowned, his lips twisting with distaste as studied what littered the room – campaign of slaughter, his demise would be on his own head. This town had never tolerated monsters for long, if the populace didn’t come for them then nature would. His mother had tipped the scales all those centuries ago and something here had been trying to right the balance since.
Perhaps he should’ve considered his aunt as the guilty party. After Hope’s birth they had spent so much time watching the horizon, as though Dahlia would sweep in storm cloud dark. A tornado of evil descended to tear their lives apart, sweeping the first born child that never should’ve been away. In the end it had felt as though his vision had started to blur with the strain of looking for trouble that had not come. He had done the same with Tristan. A constant wavering on the edge of something, hovering on the edge of the abyss, knowing that something would eventually spill him over the edge. He had just expected it to be Tristan standing toe to toe with him, not this.
The frustration that had scraped away his self-control downstairs had crept back in. Each ounce of attitude Hector showed him rubbed away at it. The vampire might have been closer to his age than almost any other in this town, but it wouldn’t make a difference if he tore the heart from Hector’s chest the same way he had the man’s downstairs. Narrowed eyes dropped to where Hector’s hands were fisted. He was not the only one on a knife edge.
No, he thought as he tried to break Hector’s denial that he had been close to Tristan again, a plan this devious would not be of his aunt’s working, although there was a chance this was a spell wrought by some witch. ”He has not made good on his threat?” Elijah laughed low, dismissively. ”He has grown weak. Once he would not have left. He would have broken you one piece at a time until you told him just what he wanted to hear.” Tristan had never known what true leadership was like – or how to elicit loyalty from those around him. They clung to his coat tails, thinking the devil they knew. The fools.
He had believed that Hector was no different, but now he found himself staring at the man again, his brows furrowing. Leaving the Strix had been for their benefit, although he had already seen the cracks starting to grow in the organisation. They had crumbled, what he had thought they could be vanishing. ”Perhaps you’re not the fool I believed you to be,” he muttered. That lunatic could still have been holding the reins of a grudge though. Release his little virus in a town filled with those who had wronged him and perhaps he would finally sit on the throne he had long been so desperate for.
Elijiah felt desperation claw at his own throat. Whoever had been behind this had done what few others had in a thousand years – they had broken through his self-control to reveal the monster beneath. Now it was free, he wasn’t sure if he could close it away again. He was impervious to most things, but this felt different. It was a change he might not be able to fight. Desperate to find some way, he had stepped closer to Hector, compelling the younger vampire even as he admitted he had not lost control in such a way for seven hundred years. He was not the only one.
”What did you tell him?” Elijah asked tightly, anger tightening his voice. ”He has found information from somewhere if he was behind this.” If, if, if. The voice nagged in his head the same way Tatia’s caring tone had. His fingers twitched in the air as though he just waited for the snap deep inside of him to satisfy the feeling that had burned inside of him like his first hunger. ”If not Tristan, then who. What company have you been keeping in this town? Who could’ve done this?” The last word slipped out on a snarl and then his hand was around Hector’s throat, fingers gripping as though he could force some explanation from the man’s throat.
|
|
HECTOR DACRE
Vampire
Posts: 237
Age:
765
Occupation:
Business Owner
Status:
Single
Played by:
Jodi
I made the devil run
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 21:11:04 GMT
|
Post by HECTOR DACRE on Mar 1, 2024 16:34:59 GMT
It wasn’t like Hector had been living his life constantly looking over his shoulder since Tristan threatened him. There was a long line of people who wanted him dead before Tristan strolled into the bar. “He’s probably trying to play some kind of mind game with me. Wants me to live in fear of him but I’m too old for those games now.” Even if his name had been marked by the Mikaelsons he wouldn’t run off into hiding. He’d accept his fate and die holding his head up high. His name had been in Tristan’s bad books for centuries now, but he had failed to take any action. Hector narrowed his eyes at Elijah’s comment. He’d done some foolish things throughout his life, but he’d never considered himself a fool. He would have been killed centuries ago if that was true. Only the smart and sensible vampires lived to Hector’s age. “And here’s me thinking you thought more highly of me.” There was a tight smile on his face, although he wasn’t wholly amused. He had followed Elijah’s orders back in the middle ages and had proven to be nothing but loyal yet the man was standing there accusing him of siding with Tristan. Hector thought the use of compulsion would be enough to prove he was telling the truth but it wasn’t. Elijah demanded more answers from him. “I told him I knew nothing.” He took a step back from Elijah because he knew more about Aurora’s boyfriends than he was letting on. Another spell of compulsion and the truth about Damien would come seeping from his lips. Who knows what Elijah would do with that information. Even though their last conversation ended on bad terms he wasn’t going to offer Damien’s name up to Elijah. How could Tristan possibly be behind this virus? Hector held back on questioning Elijah’s train of thought since the older vampire looked like he was about to snap. But suddenly he was blaming Hector. Before he could answer any question though Elijah’s hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing his windpipe. Hector tried to pry Elijah’s hand from his throat, but it was impossible. “I don’t know.” He wheezed, “I’m not telling you again… I know nothing.” His gaze bounced around the room quickly, looking for some kind of weapon within arms reach. If Elijah was going to kill him then he would go down fighting. The only thing within his reach was a vase. A very expensive vase that he couldn’t replace, but by now his lungs were starting to burn. In a blur he reached for the item, smashing it into the side of Elijah’s head. Hector coughed once Elijah’s hand slipped from his throat, inhaling harshly, his lungs thankful for the oxygen. “Elijah. I knew nothing about this virus until you came strolling into my apartment, accusing me of being Tristan’s sidekick.” He straightened himself up, eyes locked on the other man, “Why would Tristan release something that can infect vampires and put himself, his precious vampire clan and Aurora at risk?” If there was some logical reasoning behind Elijah’s rambles then Hector would love to shine the light on Tristan, driving the vampire off to kill Hector’s enemy. But it didn’t make sense. ELIJAH MIKAELSON - maybe wrap with yours? |
|
ELIJAH MIKAELSON
Original Vampire
Posts: 435
Age:
1046
Occupation:
Unemployed
Status:
In a Relationship
Partner:
Tatia Petrova
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 18, 2024 20:43:14 GMT
|
Post by ELIJAH MIKAELSON on Mar 13, 2024 19:10:51 GMT
If he’d been in his right mind Elijah might have admitted just where Tristan had learned those mind games from, but any guilt he would have felt over manipulating another had vanished like smoke. A pang in his conscience had prevented him from doing something horrific to Tatia again, the others would not be so lucky. If Tristan chose this moment to strike he would find a man who no longer cared about the consequences of slaughtering the current head of the most powerful vampire organisation in this world. ”Tristan had always overestimated the effect he has upon others,” Elijah said snidely. It was an arrogance that eclipsed even that of his own family. Eventually it would bring not just him, but both de Martels down.
He may have played at being the noble brother over the years, the one Mikaelson who could rise above the filth. A pristine suit, clean hands and the ability to fool himself into thinking he was not one of the monsters. There was an arrogance of his own in that. Elijah hummed at Hector’s retort, his lips curving into a tight smile that matched the man’s own. There was a time he had, although allowing himself back into the de Martels orbit had left him questioning just how smart Hector was. ”I think more highly of you than Tristan.” Not that the comparison would ever be complimentary. Tristan de Martel was a plague, one that should have been chewed up by this virus, instead of him.
For too long they had allowed Tristan and his twisted sister to remain in this town. Both had threatened him, had lingered on the edges of their lives like dark clouds upon the horizon. Dark eyes bored into Hector’s now, as though he could see through them into the clever brain that lay behind. Thoughts could be plucked like strings, those pink folds pulled to pieces in an attempt to find out just what both of them had done to this town. Elijah’s stiffened as Hector took a step back, as though he would spring for him. Tristan wouldn’t have stopped at such a statement. Men like Hector always knew something of what happened around them, it was how they survived.
Picturing Tristan like the cockroach that would survive the destruction it had caused, Elijah had become certain that it was those pale hands that had boiled up this sickness. Had he infected Hector on purpose? Sending him to New York to find him would have been risky, but Hector had found him there of all places and look who had fallen furthest now. Elijah didn’t twitch as Hector grabbed for his hand. He could feel the cartilage flex beneath the skin with every word Hector wheezed. ”I would say that’s a lie, but I don’t think you would allow me to think you so pathetic if it were not true.” Tristan wouldn’t have tasked a man like Dacre with being a part of his plan to bring him to his knees. His hatred for the Mikaelsons meant that Tristan would be the one to do it himself.
Before his mind could finish forming the thought Hector was swinging at his head. The shattering of the vase was like a switch being flipped in his head, a reboot of thoughts that had skittered far from where they had started. Elijah’s grip broke, his heels crunching upon the debris. ”You thought this was normal?” Gesturing around Hector’s apartment, at the damage he’d obviously wrought long before he had shown up here, Elijah laughed tightly. ”He would … there would be some way for him to protect himself …”
Like the vase, Hector’s argument struck him hard. Dragging in a deep breath, Elijah took a step back, frowning at Hector as he shook his head. ”If this wasn’t him, then he knew something about it. That it has affected both of us is too much coincidence. I will get to the bottom of this and whoever is behind it will pay.” The promise added a razor edge to Elijah’s words as he spun away. Blood trickled down the side of his neck, leaving him tugging at his collar as he stormed from the apartment, an ant like irritation that he brushed aside as his mind already careened down another avenue to try and calculate just how this disease had been thrown amongst them.
|
|
hope to see you in the discord! 
