Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┏━━━━━━━━━━┓ chapter one: the originals ┗━━━━━━━━━━┛
"WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE OF NEW ORLEANS." A tourist beamed." A supernatural playground where the living are easily lost... and the dead stick around to play." As if on cue, the group of tourists moved out of the way, giving anyone a clear shot of the two hybrids. They crossed the road and walked over to the booth of a witch posing as a fortune teller, who immediately started packing her things at the sight of the hybrids.
"Good afternoon," Klaus greeted as he and his sister sat down at the witch's booth. "Time for one more?"
"I have nothing to say to you." The witch responded.
"Oh, now, that's not how you greet someone, is it?" Belle asked sarcastically. "You don't even know us."
"I know what you are." The witch retorted. "Half-vampire, half-beast. You're the hybrids."
"The Original Hybrids, actually." Belle corrected.
"But that's a long story for another time." Klaus rushed, sparing his sister an annoyed glance. "We're looking for someone, a witch. Perhaps you might be able to help us find her. Jane-Anne Devereaux."
The witch looked shocked for a moment before covering it up, though it didn't go unnoticed. "Sorry, I don't know." She replied.
Klaus got closer to her face. "Well, now, that's a fib, isn't it? Now, you see . . ." He grabbed her arm. "I know that you're a true witch amongst these poseurs. So enough with the fabrications. I've quite a temper."
The witch snatched her arm from Klaus. "Witches don't talk out of school in the Quarter. The vampire won't allow it. Those are the rules. I don't break Marcel's rules."
Marcel. A name she hadn't dared to speak in Klaus' presence. Memories of the last time she had even seen Marcel flooded her mind. Blood. Screaming. Fire. Death. Mikael.
"Marcel's rules?" Klaus asked, shock evident on his face before replacing it with a smirk. "Where do you suppose we might find Marcel?"
✶
THE WITCH GAVE THEM DIRECTIONS TO A BAR, ROUSSEAU'S. Belle looked around at the place with disgust. The place didn't look how it did almost a century ago. Now it was dirtier, darker, and overall more depressing that it had once been. She dragged her hand along the bar but groaned in disgust, catching Klaus' attention.
"Do you see this?" She asked, looking from her hand to Klaus before rubbing her hands together. "Dust on the counters that people are supposed to eat off. This place is filthy."
