𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬-𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 ♡

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 seventy-five

decode.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A POOL OF BLOOD leaked across the dining room floor, soaking into the bare wood and staining it a dark red. Some of it clung to the suit jacket that lay with it. Other speckles sitting atop a face that never moved. Veins sat empty and cold, all connecting to a heart that would never beat again. 

There was a musky scent of cologne running through the air. A lifeless hand clutched desperately at a picture of two. The first, a young girl. The second, a father. It was crumpled and faded like it had been taken everywhere with its carrier. 

James Garcia lay in a halo made up of nothing but red. 

There was a slash in his throat. Pulling from one ear to the other. Dragged across by the sharpest teeth and drained out onto the floorboards like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.

Meanwhile, his daughter - his very own blood - felt the sun burn her skin and mind numb. "I offered you a cure with the small price to pay being a flimsy little fork." He paused. "But you couldn't even manage that, could you? That's the cost for insolence."

His own words clouded up the atmosphere and made the world feel much too tight while Kai grinned in excitement at the Tuning Fork between his fingers. "Not small enough, I think."

"You won't take the cure because you like being this way, don't you? You're bad. Badder than me, maybe." Klaus taunted. 

"Your father is just as bad, Dallas. I'd say that's your punishment." He spoke down to her. "But beneath all the names, the twists and turns of the family tree, you have Mikaelson blood -- and that blood is black and poisonous."

Shadows fell across his face. "You're not good. Maybe if you stopped pretending to be - your father would still be alive." He paused. "I hope this helps you understand that if you ever play with forces you don't understand.. expect to lose." 

Her eyes fell bloodshot. It felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to her chest. Broken fragments of bone pierced her heart and caused it to ache terribly. So terribly, in fact, she'd rather they had just ripped it from her body instead. 

She shook her head. "I didn't do this." Her chin had begun to ache between the grits of her teeth. "You did this. You killed him." 

His figure drew closer to hers and lips seethed before her face. "He's a Mikaelson." Klaus snapped. "Your family's name made him soft. It made you all soft. I gave him the push he needed."