Two Fangs Deep

Sly As A Fox

Scarlett's POV

I'm in over my head. If Klaus ever realizes who I am... then it's all over. 

I have to wait for Jakob to do what I asked of him. I just hope he survives it. 

Now, I have to deal with the Mikaelsons, especially Rebekah. Marcel and that bitch are going to get me busted if they keep pushing me like this. I've never had an acting problem since it's a part of my work but when it comes to The Mikaelsons, everything is harder. They keep triggering lost memories that distract me. 

Pain is the only way out. It's the only thing that keeps me focused at this point.

I sighed as I sat down in the comfy chair by my bedroom window. I quickly reached into my side pocket and retrieved a pocket knife. I played with it between my fingers before I jabbed it into my thigh. 

I let out a sigh of relief. How did I even end up here? I've basically become a sadomasochist over the past few hundred years. 

I'm no longer the Scarlett I'm pretending to be I'm Scar, the feared vampire assassin!

...but why do I keep feeling comfortable in this role I'm playing?

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I woke up to a knock on the door. 

I must have fallen asleep. 

"Scarlett?" I heard Elijah's deep voice float through the room. 

"Over here," I called out groggily. 

I heard his steps approach my chair, slowly. 

I didn't pay much attention to him. I was busy rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes.

"Jesus Christ, A-Scarlett." Elijah corrected himself as his concerned voice reached my ears. 

I stopped rubbing my face long enough to see what a mess I had made. Shit, I forgot to remove the knife. Now, there's blood everywhere, the chair is drenched and I've started to heal around the knife. 

"Calm down, Elijah," I said annoyed, and pulled the knife out of my thigh. 

"I didn't take you for the squeamish type." I huffed and stood up from the chair. 

"I'm hungry," I stated simply as I pushed past him. 

"Klaus has been asking questions," Elijah stated. 

I stopped dead still in my tracks, inches away from the door. 

I turned around slowly. 

"What kind of questions?" I asked squinting at him.

"If I recognize you from anywhere? How good of a fighter you are, and so on." Elijah said as he laid his hand on the chair I previously sat in, lowering his head and sighing. 

I could hear the old voice in the back of my head start whispering thoughts I had about him once before. 

"Just talk yourself out of it and/or lie. You're good at that," I answered with a hint of passive-aggressiveness. 

I was about to leave when I felt Elijah's hand on my shoulder. 

"Be careful, Marcel's people are out there." I turned my head and gave him a death stare. 

How dare he doubt my skills. I'm one of the oldest vampires on this earth besides the Mikaelsons. 

"I'm not a child. I've survived as long as you without being an Original. I believe I'm capable to take care of a few vampires." I growled.