Lover Be | The Originals

Chapter Ten | Revelations

"The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe

Klaus had gotten used to her schedule over the two weeks since he started watching Malia's performances. He knew which nights she played at that jazz club, and had gotten into the habit of walking her home and enjoying their evening conversations together. 

But this evening Malia was covering for a musician who had caught the cold. She played to a crowd that lacked the charismatic friend she had made, and she had to walk home alone. 

The weather had slowly been getting a bit warmer, but she still bundled up to keep away the cold. She began her walk home but was only about a block away from the club when she heard a woman's scream coming from down an alley. Keeping herself concealed, she carefully went to peak around the corner but saw nothing. 

Making the type of decision that only the first person to die in a horror movie could make, she began down that alley to see if there was anyone in need of help. She passed a dumpster and jumped when she saw the bloodied corpse of a woman. There were old symbols carved deep into her skin, her fingertips a deep ash color with protruding veins.

Malia's body was frozen on the spot. Her veins turned to ice as her fingers went numb, and it wasn't because of the cold weather. Her head started spinning and her chest felt like it might explode. She couldn't even scream, all she could do was stand in silent horror of the scene before her. 

Finally, her brain began to signal her legs to move. She started towards the body before a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She let out a shriek.

"Don't scream," the man commanded her, looking into her eyes. Her eyes widened to see the face of the man she had met in the bookstore two weeks prior, Elijah. For a moment, a flash of surprise crossed his face.

Her lips shook as she tried to find a single word to say.

"Forget about this and go home," he stared intensely into her eyes, and she couldn't quite understand why he was doing that.

"O-Okay. I won't tell anyone. I swear," Malia tries to scramble away, but he holds firm on her arm.

Elijah frowns, studying her face and then examining down over her body. He ripped off her coat so quickly that it was torn in two and looked from her hands to wrists to neck. 

"N-No. Please, don't," tears pricked at Malia's eyes as she feared the worst.

He appeared completely uninterested in her pleading. 

"Are you on vervain?" He studies her face again, then pulls her hand towards his mouth. "Just a taste. Just to see."

He said the words almost as if it were a promise to himself, not a reassurance for her. Malia sucked in a breath so hard that it winded her when she saw his eyes turn bloodshot and black veins spread across his face. A tooth so sharp that it could only be described as a fang pricked her fingertip, drawing blood which the man then licked.

He looked at her in utter confusion, before staring into her eyes again.

"Forget about this," he commanded firmly.

"Please, I said I'll forget," Malia cried, her voice dripping with fear. She pulled as hard as she could against his grip, to no avail. "Just let me go."

"What's happening? Why won't compulsion work? Are you a witch?"

Malia's pleading was unintelligible at this point. She shook her head vigorously and tried to pull away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Malia," Elijah said firmly. "I'm trying to help you."

"What?" Malia shook her head, closing her eyes tightly. 

"Malia," Elijah grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "I will not hurt you, you have my word. You are safe."

He repeated it over and over again until the girl finally began to calm down. 

"Elijah," Malia said when her brain started to work again. "What's going on? Who is that? What happened?"

The girl gasped as she glanced at the body again. It was mostly the same, except that the ash and veins had crawled up higher on the arms.

"I'll answer your questions. Let me take you home."

Maybe better judgment would have said no, but Malia was in such shock that she let him guide her back to her apartment. Her shaky hands unlocked the apartment door and she walked in like a zombie.

Elijah remained at the door.

"You'll have to invite me in," he tells her.

"What? Why?" Malia turned back toward him. 

Elijah didn't answer but didn't make a move to come inside either. 

"Um, come in," she finally said, and the man obliged.

She sat at the kitchen bar and Elijah tentatively sat across from her.

"Please tell me what's going on."

Elijah paused, deciding where to begin. 

"The body you saw was a colleague of mine. A lot of my colleagues have been murdered recently and I'm trying to figure out why and how."

"What about the other stuff you said? About witches? And, oh god, your face! And you . . . licked me? Shit, you must be crazy," Malia closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. 

"Malia, I understand that what you just saw was frightening. I assure you, there is a logical explanation. New Orleans is a place of mystique. There's a . . . supernatural world here. And I mean that in the truest sense of the word."

"Supernatural? Wha-"

"Supernatural, yes. Vampires, witches, and werewolves. I understand this may be overwhelming."

"You are off your rocker."

"Malia . . ."

"I mean, you are really, really crazy."

"Malia," Elijah grabbed her shoulders again as she began laughing hysterically.

"This is fucking ridiculous. You're fucking cra-"

Elijah forced her to look at him as he flashed his bloodshot eyes, black veins, and fangs at her to prove what he was saying. It was just for a second, but Malia jumped back in shock.

"Am I losing it?" she whispers to herself.

"No. No, Malia," Elijah pulls her towards him and holds her to try to help her calm down. "You are going to be fine."