Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE
THE BEGINNING

"They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons, and my darling, you were so kind and beautiful before they dragged you to hell."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Southern France, 1011 AD

     Henrik sat on the back of the carriage, knees drawn up to his chest as he watched his siblings eat. He had long since gotten used to the brutality in which they satiated their hunger. Sometimes it worried him, how desensitized he was becoming, but then he heard Kol refer to the humans they killed as nothing more than food, and he comforted himself in the fact that at least he would never be as far gone as they all seemed to be. He would never succumb to the darkness his siblings were condemned to.

At least, he hoped he wouldn't succumb to it. He knew there was darkness in him. The anger was always there, building in his chest, the need to lash out and destroy things sometimes so strong it took all he had to fight it. He didn't want to be like that. He didn't want to be like them. He didn't want to hurt people and enjoy it, and part of him was afraid that was where he was headed, if they all continued to live like monsters hiding in the shadows.

"Who's ready for the next course?" Kol asked, a bright smile on his face as he slapped his hand on Finn's upper back. Finn was staring at them all in slight disgust. Henrik didn't know why he felt ashamed. He didn't kill anyone. He hadn't even eaten yet, since he wasn't the same type of immortal creature they were. Human food worked just fine in satisfying him, and for that, he was grateful.

"You are all filthy gluttons," Finn said in slight disbelief. Kol openly laughed at him, while Henrik's mouth just twisted. His stomach clenched, emitting a growl that sounded too loud to his ears. Elijah, who was nearby, shot him a concerned look before he went to look through the things on the cart. Henrik could have done that himself, but it felt wrong to trifle through their things while his siblings were feeding on them. The least he could do was wait until they were dead, out of some twisted form of respect. Unfortunately, that resulted in him simply sitting there and watching as their lives were drained away.

"And you remain ever the dullard," Kol teased, bringing Henrik out of his thoughts. Henrik rolled his eyes, only turning away from them when he felt someone touch his arm. Elijah was there, holding something wrapped in a piece of cloth.

"Here, Henrik," he said, pushing the bundle into Henrik's hands. "I found some extra food in the carriage, as well as some water." Henrik let out a small sigh of relief, giving his brother a small smile.

"Thank you," he whispered. Elijah just nodded and cupped the back of his head, planting a kiss on Henrik's forehead before he turned back toward their siblings, all of whom seemed to be in some sort of mood. Even Elijah seemed tired, and Henrik couldn't blame him. They had been running for so long that they didn't know how to do anything else. They often forgot that Henrik, in particular, needed to rest and sleep and eat regular, human food. He tried not to feel resentment every time he had to remind them that he wasn't the same creature as they were, but that resentment and darkness and anger just kept getting harder and harder to ignore. Henrik, with a firm shake of his head, went back to eating and regaining his strength, eyes following his siblings as they looked over the bodies they had fed upon. Klaus looked guilt-ridden, still crouched by the woman he had killed, while Finn and Elijah looked displeased. Kol looked excited; he delighted in the bloodshed and the chaos, in the darkness. Henrik always kept his thoughts about that to himself. Finally, there was Rebekah, who was bent over the other girl, fingers sliding along the fabric of the blue dress the girl was wearing.