XXXII - 𝔭𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔩𝔶 𝔭𝔬𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔠

ELENA WOKE UP WITH A START.

"What are you doing?" She whimpered, catching sight of the I.V. and the containers of blood.

Klaus Mikaelson examined her short breaths carelessly. His entire aura oozed casual wreckage and the doppelganger was scared. Scared because when Klaus was loud and angry and ferocious, he was a blaring horn, but when he was silent the most strident of things trembled in fear.

At her cheerless expression, he grinned. "What am I doing?  Just draining you of all your blood."

"Klaus did you want the —" Tyler stopped in his tracks. "Elena?"

"Tyler, help me!"

"He can't," Klaus grinned smugly. "He needs to go fetch me more empty blood bags. About three liters worth, please Tyler."

Elena stared at him, "Tyler, please. Get Stefan, please."

"No, Tyler, get the bags," Klaus ordered. "And while you're at it. Get some painkillers for my son. He's a bit banged up."

A gesture to the right showed Elena and Tyler a very unconscious Judas. There was a compelled nurse bending over him, cautiously extracting the glass shards from his skin as he slept.

Klaus watched as the cogs in Tyler's head turned. He imagined it didn't happen often, so that was why the Hybrid was slow to answer his beck and call.

But then instead of obeying Klaus' order, Tyler rushed toward Elena.

Klaus sighed, intercepting him easily. "Forget the girl and get the bags. Now."

After a moment, he nodded and left.

Elena's hope dwindled. "So, that's it? You're just gonna bleed me dry."

"Yes, but don't worry, it'll be completely painless. As the last drop is drawn, you'll simply fall asleep."

"What about your hybrids? You'll need more than this to create your army."

Klaus accepted one of the blood bags. "These last few liters will have to suffice. You see, by attempting to kill us, my mother strengthened the bond between my siblings and I. I don't need hybrids. I have my family."

Elena wriggled her wrists behind her back, testing to see the strength of the rope. "If you believe that, then why take my blood at all? You want a backup family. You know that your siblings will never trust you again. You know that Lilura and Judas won't be a part of your life forever no matter how much you want them to. Because in the end, they'll realize what kind of monster you are and they'll leave."

Klaus chuckled grimly, eyes flashing blue anger at her accusation. "You know Stefan blames me for trying to tear him from his brother, but I think we both know who really came between them," He flicked her temple childishly. "You. That's why you won't choose. You know once you pick a Salvatore, you'll destroy their bond."

He continued in a harsh whisper, "Consider this me doing you a favor. Once you're dead, you won't have to choose. No broken hearts. Their family stays intact. But just between us girls, who would you have picked?"

"Rot in hell," Elena spat.

Klaus was entirely unbothered. "You're welcome. Sweet dreams, Elena. It's been fun."

He patted the doppelganger's head like she was a dog and then disappeared to check on Judas.

Tyler crept in.

Elena's eyes bugged. "What are you doing?"

"Shhh," Tyler pleaded as he quickly untied the girl.

"Tyler-" Elena breathed.

"Ahem!" Klaus examined the situation with cold eyes. "So much for that sire bond."

"I'm not your little bitch anymore."

"How did you break the sire bond?" Klaus inquired.

"By breaking every bone in my body a hundred times for the girl I love."

"That's impossible."

"Is it?" Tyler echoed as he stood chest to chest with the Original Hybrid. "Or maybe real love is stronger than fake loyalty. But what would you know about that?"

"I know plenty, you insufferable dog. You know, you should be thanking me. I gave you a gift. I took away your misery."

"You didn't give a crap about me! You just didn't want to be alone!"

Tyler supported Elena.

"Come on," He said.

"Children, please." Klaus laughed. "You're not going anywhere."

Suddenly, Klaus pushed Elena back into her seat, which coincidentally knocked the doppelganger out as well. As for the disloyal mutt, Klaus had him by the throat.

"Goodbye, Tyler," He said and stuck his arm inside Tyler's chest. However, at that exact moment, two cumbersome and irritable brothers arrived on the scene.

When he saw barely kept black hair and overly gelled blond, Klaus knew who they were.

Damon locked Klaus' arms and Stefan plunged his hand inside the Original's chest.

Suddenly, the Hybrid was desiccating. His porcelain skin greyed and without much resistance, Klaus closed his eyes.

"BonBon certainly did her job," Damon groaned as he dragged Klaus to the car.

When he stuffed the Original Hybrid in the trunk of his car, Damon turned back to look at a revived Elena, stern Stefan, and shaken Tyler.

"Not a word to the kid, ok?" He hissed. "We don't need him running around crying wolf."

"You can't do that to Judas," Elena croaked.

Damon smirked, "Watch me."

———— Δ ————

"Remind me to charm myself a new pair of legs," groaned the Siren. "I can hardly feel these ones."

Sirius jumped around to face his owner in exasperation and pity.

"What? I haven't been exercising this past week."

Sirius continued to stare at her.

"Ok, I haven't been exercising for a few hundred years but that's not the point!"

Sirius snorted and turned around.

"I...can't," The Siren wheezed, leaning against a tree and grasping her ribcage. "I think I'm going to die."

Sirius barked, drawing Lilura's attention to a waterfall.

"By god!" The young woman smirked. "You've done it again, Sirius."

Her left eye flickered. The normal eye color was slowly spreading and coming back. Blue-green battling against milky white, but at the sight of the waterfall — for just a second — the blue-green won.

She pulled her t-shirt over her head and threw it to a disgruntled Sirius.

"Let's get this party started," She smirked and dove into the water.

———— Δ ————

Judas could have banged his head against the nightstand one million times, and it still wouldn't compare to the headache he was currently enduring. To top it all off, his face felt dangerously stiff, as if he had just injected 17 needles of botox into his muscles.

Finally, with a little grunt, his green eyes flew open to be greeted with a mess. On a far table, pushed back against the wall was a pile of glass shards, presumably the ones that had been stuck in him before he passed out. The makeshift hospital was deserted. A broken chair was to his left and if his scent of smell was correct, the red that stained the wood was blood.

Talk about creepy, He thought. Judas flipped over and felt something poking into his side.

Frowning at the sensation, the young hunter pulled out the book Klaus had shoved in his hands before confronting Alaric.

"Page 109. Don't let anyone else read it."

Judas carefully sat himself up and opened the book.

As he flipped through it, he couldn't help but think that Emily Dickinson was a talented writer. It was evident that Lilura enjoyed her work, as the spine was cracked and the pages yellowed by constant turning.

But page 109 was different. First of all, it was less old. It seemed like a page that Lilura never turned to, or perhaps avoided turning to. The condition was much too pristine.

Judas' eyes read the fine print:

109. That it will never come again

That it will never come again

Is what makes life so sweet.

Believing what we don't believe

Does not exhilarate.

That if it be, it be at best

An ablative estate --

This instigates an appetite

Precisely opposite.

Judas raised his eyebrows in thought. He remembered the words Lilura spoke before passing out.

"There is a way." She grabbed Bonnie's shoulder. "That it will never come again is what makes life sweet."

It was the first line of the poem. His fingers tingled as he flipped through the other pages, which had writing on them, including hastily scribbled annotations and messy doodles. Page 109 was different, and Judas was determined to find out why.

He set to work.

Several hours later, Judas still wasn't close to discovering whatever was on page 109 of the Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson.

He had read the specific poem over and over again but couldn't bring himself to understand just what Lilura meant. He didn't have the slightest intimation. But he was damned if he didn't try. So, he read the first line again.

That it will never come again

Is what makes life so sweet.

Emily Dickinson invariably meant that life itself was sweet, or in other words, it was treasured because people lived one life. No re-dos. No erasing the board.

Judas supposed that Lilura related to this statement in a way. She was a creature almost as old as the Originals, and she had seen everything. She had lived her life with strenuous energy but never once had been able to relive it or fix her mistakes whether that be her secrecy on her pregnancy or Esther's deal. He surmised that even a part of her wished to be inexplicably human.

Yes, Lilura had never wanted to be a Siren.

Believing what we don't believe

Does not exhilarate.

And she had been gulled into believing that Klaus Mikaelson was callous. He was terrible and unmerciful. She had been manipulated into thinking that Klaus Mikaelson would not fight for family. When the one person you confided in became the monster, you had no choice but to place faith in the lesser of the two evils - and that was absolutely the reason Esther managed to get her way with Lilura Anthemoessa, the Siren of the Kingdom of Mayera.

That if it be, it be at best

An ablative estate --

This instigates an appetite

Precisely opposite.

In the end, Dickinson ends with the sentiment that life tends to be treated lightly because those that believe in the afterlife treat life as a pushing-off point. That is, they do not live as they should. Instead, they are blinded by rose-tinted glasses and holy promises.

Now, this Judas was not certain what Lilura meant to convey, or how it related to her at all.  After calling Klaus repeatedly and maybe combusting his phone, Judas still couldn't reach the only Original who seemed to understand.

Damn you, Klaus.

He was still at the deserted warehouse, surrounded by broken chairs and a scary number of blood bags. Whose, he didn't bother to find out, but a sinking feeling in his stomach pointed to the crossfire of danger and mythological creatures personified in a person — Elena Miranda Gilbert.

It seemed she wasn't the only bane of his existence after all.

Judas shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about the girl he would never have. He knew that her short-lived attention was trained on him because of the current way the Salvatores had been acting. Judas knew that once one of them declared their love for her grandiosely, Damon with his I'm-a bad-guy-but-I'll-be-good-for-you

way and Stefan with his obnoxiously selfless I-would-die-for-you way, Judas Mikaelson would cease to mean a thing.

It just wasn't worth it.

Perhaps it was that sinking realization, his mother's dwindling insanity, Alaric's alter ego, and Klaus' spontaneous abandonment that prompted the young hunter to sway on the spot. He stumbled to the door and then slowly eased his body to the floor.

Inhaling deeply,

Judas rubbed his eyes and felt wetness.

"You twat," He whispered to himself. "Stop bloody crying."

He cried harder.

Judas hissed when his tears fell onto the open book in his lap. "This day keeps getting better and better," He mumbled.

But then something caught his eye. The book. The paper. The letters.

The letters were smudging and moving.

Judas slapped his own cheek.

"Ow," He grunted, rubbing the tender spot, but the action served its purpose. The printed letters were no longer convulsing and cart-wheeling.

He was going crazy, Judas thought. That was it.

But another look at the book proved otherwise. Heart racing, the young hunter studied the first stanza, precisely where his tears had stained the paper.

109. That it will never come again

Gold woven in Bubinga and flowed birth,

stains red in core blitheness --

Judas stood up and rushed to a sink. He hoped that the idea flitting through his mind would not completely ruin the book but show him the rest of the hidden message. With a heave, the young hunter shoved it under the spastically spouting water.

To his abject delight, the poem re-wrote itself.

Gold woven in Bubinga and flowed birth,

stains red in core blitheness,

One for the monstrous masked man,

the other for a scion,

ruination in smited midsts

and light capers on

Judas sat down on a rickety chair.

"Another riddle," He murmured to himself. "And it still makes no sense."

He fished for his phone and dialed Klaus.

But before Judas could even press the button, another number popped onscreen.

He hoped it wasn't another one of those annoying insurance sales or, god forbid, another scammer. But then again, he had nothing to fear from them because he had no money.

Like at all.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, my favorite nephew."

"I'm your only nephew."

"Ah, so it seems. I believe it is due time for a fun uncle-nephew bonding experience. Meet me at the Gilbert house."

Judas snorted. "That's your idea of fun?"

"No, but we must bargain for your father before the festivities can start."

"So that's where he went. How much do you know about Lilura?" He asked.

"I like to think everything."

"Good. We're going to put that to use today." Judas shoved the book under his arm and walked to the front door. "I hope you like ridiculously pretentious poems by our Siren in question because I have one for you."

"I would like nothing more."