
.14 | ππππππ πππππππ [π]
ββββββ β
ββββββ
πππππππ πππ.
[0π]. ππππππ πππππππ.
γ ππππ πππ γ
ββββββββββββ
ββββββββββββ
β πππππ ππππ πππππππππ
ππππ πππππ ππππ π πππ β
ββββββ β
ββββββ
π ππππππππ π ππππππ ππππππππ ππππ meltdown were a few minor events that led to the catastrophe that was Lizzie and Josie's birthday party. Number one, Jo, AKA Alaric's dead almost-wife was up and walking. Number two, Penelope was being her usual self in helping MG get rid of Perseus. And finally, number three; Nathaniel was basically teeming with jealousy once he noticed how Hope seemed to be a little too close to Rafael for his liking.
The nephilim had noticed that morning how the tribrid had been acting towards the werewolf. And Nathaniel understood where Hope was coming from, to a certain extent. The alpha was left alone after Landon had to leave, but that didn't mean he had to like the empathy Hope felt for the damn dog. And now, both of them being MIA while the twins party was underway made a scowl set on Nathaniel's face as the nephilim crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh, you look cranky," Penelope Park graced Nathaniel with her presence as she walked up behind him.
Nathaniel couldn't help but roll his eyes as he turned his back to her. "I'm not in the mood, hocus pocus."
This caused Penelope to snort. "I can see that. Who pissed in your cereal?"
Nathaniel huffed, turning to her slightly. "Do I not make myself clear enough that I don't like you?"
"Oh, you do. It's just fun annoying you."
"Hmm," Nathaniel hummed, all rigidness leaving his body to leave behind a calmer and more collected front. Penelope Park wasn't about to watch him sweat more than she already had, Nathaniel was going to make sure of it. "For a smart witch, you're pretty stupid."
Penelope's eyebrows rose. "And why's that?"
"You're forgetting you're supernatural. Which means you're not off limits. If I were you, I'd cherish my tongue and tread carefully, Park," Nathaniel smirked loosely, taking a small swing of his spiked drink.
Penelope scoffed, seemingly unbothered, but Nathaniel knew better. If it weren't for her huge ego, she'd let the nephilim see her tremble under his surging power. And that was the only thing Nathaniel liked about Penelope. The way she wouldn't crack under him like everyone else. But even then, that small respect Nathaniel held for Penelope wouldn't exonerate her of his distaste for her prowling tendencies.
"You should really stop meddling your way into things that aren't meant for you to be interfering with," Nathaniel sustained, and Penelope narrowed her eyes on him in confusion, to which the nephilim sighed before continuing. "Lizzie's happy with Spartacus. MG isn't what she wants. Clearly."
The last word Nathaniel uttered came out harsh as his eyes landed on Lizzie and Perseus as they slow danced. Penelope's eyes followed Nathaniel's, and when the couple came into view, she shook her head, seeing MG in the shadows as he too watched the blonde witch and her companion. Maybe it wasn't fair. But Nathaniel wasn't about to let Penelope ruin the one thing that was making Lizzie happy at the moment.
Penelope smiled slackly. "Why do you care? Last time I checked, you and Lizzie Saltzman aren't the best of buds."
"That's for me to know," Nathaniel quickly responded, taking a small pause before his next sentence. "And for you to mind your damn business."
Penelope rolled her eyes playfully as she watched a mocking smirk play on Nathaniel's lips. The nephilim would never admit it, but the banter between him and the detested witch would always be something Nathaniel thoroughly enjoyed.
There was a small silence that followed as all eyes wondered on Lizzie and Perseus before realization fell on Nathaniel. Josie Saltzman was nowhere to be found and the nephilim quickly frowned in concern. It wasn't that long ago that he last saw his sister, and she was already ready for her party.
"Where's Josie?" Nathaniel asked Penelope.
Penelope frowned in his direction. "I don't know."
And the feeling of concern only intensified.
Before Nathaniel knew it, the nephilim sprang into action as he ran down the staircase in route to Alaric's office. It took Nathaniel about five minutes to find that his foster parent wasn't there, but in the woods, looking alarmed. In return, Nathaniel turned more worried than he had been a second ago.
"What happened?"
Alaric panted. "I need your help."
MG and Penelope's footsteps stopped behind Nathaniel, but the nephilim didn't turn to them. Instead, his attention fell on Hope, who came out from behind a tree. Nathaniel didn't have the time to remember he was upset with her, so he swiftly tuned to Alaric, using his eyes to urge Doctor Saltzman to speak.
But he didn't.
Hope did.
"We need to find Josie," Hope started, eyeing everyone. "Jo buried her alive in the cemetery."
It was mere seconds before Nathaniel was leading the determined looking quartet of himself, Hope, Penelope and MG into the graveyard, all of them clutching tightly onto the weapons they picked out, a worried expression on their faces. Nathaniel was anxious and determined to find his sister, though he quickly pushed aside his uneasiness, seeing as though the antsy feeling wasn't letting the nephilim think straight and would subsequently not help him find Josie.
"Nate," Hope brought in the nephilim's attention after a few minutes of walking. "Listen for her breathing."
Nathaniel nodded slightly, and after a few seconds, his hearing caught onto something under the dirt. "I hear something," everyone stopped moving. "MG, I'm gonna need you to dig."
MG nodded, inserting his shovel into the dirt where Nathaniel pointed towards a newly dug patch of earth in front of a gravestone. But before the vampire could pull the shovel out of the dirt, a decomposing arm pushed itself through the soil and grabbed onto MG's ankle. Surprised screams followed as the creature below the dirt clawed its way out, revealing itself to be a young male, rasping and hissing his way towards the four teenagers.
"What-" Nathaniel started, but was quickly cut off when another hand got ahold of his leg. And without thinking twice, Nathaniel swung his dress boot at the monster, dislocating its jaw before jumping back. The creature seemed pissed after that. "Dawn of the Dead over here isn't too happy."
MG exasperatedly grabbed onto the shovel and jammed the end of the blade into the zombie's forehead, killing it on impact. "Aim for the head. You got to go for the brain. Everyone knows that."
Just as Penelope was going to rebuttal, Nathaniel and Hope quickly caught onto the sound of several more enemies as they crawled out of various other surrounding graves. Nathaniel couldn't help but groan his frustration, bringing in MG and Penelope's attention as their eyes landed on the approaching zombies.
"Perfect. Just fucking awesome. And I'm wearing my best suit too," Nathaniel scoffed.
The four clutched onto their weapons tightly, tensing up and looking around as more zombies surrounded them in a circle, forcing them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a square shaped group. The beheadings and smitings that followed were filled with the band working in sync until the zombies seemed to lessen in numbers.
"Penelope and I can handle the rest," Hope turned to Nathaniel with an exhausted huff, holding onto her shovel. "You and MG look for Josie."
Nathaniel swiftly nodded, letting his hand fall softly on Hope's shoulder before giving her a light squeeze and looking at her gently. "Be careful."
Hope smiled back tenderly. "You too."
And with that, Nathaniel sprinted his way into the graveyard as MG used his vamp-speed to haste up the process and cover more ground. It was only minutes later that the vampire called out to the nephilim and they were digging up a grave until MG's shovel hit wood. And just as MG ripped the lid off the makeshift coffin, another zombie, though this time female, hissed and reached out to grab a hold of the vampire.
But before she could do any damage, Nathaniel jumped feet first into the human sized hole MG had dug with a thump, pressing his palm to her forehead and smiting the zombie. Her eyes quickly burned from her sockets as well as a white-gold light shined through her mouth before she fell limp against the wood.
"Jesus, MG," Nathaniel huffed, shaking his head disapprovingly at the vampire. "We're running out of time!"
"There too much noise," MG pointed out.
But that wasn't going to stop Nathaniel.
The nephilim closed his eyes and focused on his superhuman sense of hearing, insolating the noise he was looking for from all the other ambient sounds around him. After a long moment, Nathaniel heard the sound of muffled cries before his eyes shot open in concern, landing on MG.
"Found her," Nathaniel stated.
Nathaniel hassled his way towards the cries that were now engraved into his head. The thought of Josie's distress burned a fire in the pit of the nephilim's stomach, so hot he didn't even wait for MG to pass over the shovel, instead, Nathaniel landed over the dirt Josie laid buried under before using his bare hands to dig. The desperation drove Nathaniel, and MG quickly followed suit in the task of saving Josie.
Soon, Josie's smooth, alive hand rose from out of the soil and relieved gasps followed, alerting Nathaniel of Hope and Penelope's presences. The nephilim quickly grabbed onto his sister's hand before pulling her out of the earth. Once Josie was free, she gasped for breath for several seconds, clearly overwhelmed by the traumatic experience.
"You gave us a scare there, Jo," Nathaniel huffed in relief, a shake to his body from the still-cursing adrenaline.
Hope sighed in relief. "The talisman! It worked!"
Josie, half-gasping, half-sobbing, looked down at the talisman around her neck and grabbed it with her hand before looking up at Hope questioningly. "What's it supposed to do?"
Hope smiled weakly. "Make quiet things heard."
And if Nathaniel Forbes hadn't been in love with Hope Mikaelson before that, the nephilim sure as hell fell face first in that moment.
Hours later, after Nathaniel had showered off the grim and dirt sticking to his skin, the nephilim headed towards his room with a towel loosely tucked around his waist. On the way there, Nathaniel strolled around the common room, where he quickly spotted Hope staring into the fireplace. But before the nephilim could even begin to speak to garner the tribrid's attention, Rafael Waithe beat him to it, stepping out from the other side of the room.
Nathaniel saw red, but the nephilim didn't dare make a single move as he watched the two talk. Nathaniel didn't like it. He didn't like the way Rafael smiled in her direction. He didn't like the way Hope lightly chuckled back. It was all wrong. That wasn't the way it was supposed to go. And it was taking everything in the nephilim to stop him from exploding.
The wolf was trying to make a move.
One the nephilim wasn't going to let him make.
Because if Landon Kirby wasn't going to interfere in the tribrid/nephilim mashup, then lonely wolf Rafael Waithe was sure as hell not going to either.
Hope had better taste.
So, Nathaniel decided on walking away for once.
After the little encounter, Nathaniel decided on walking alongside Alaric in the cemetery with a lit lantern and an armful of keepsakes to rest at Jo's grave, including her wedding gown, a photo of Lizzie and Josie in their school uniforms, a framed photo of Jo and Alaric on their wedding day, and their wedding rings. If there was one thing Nathaniel wasn't going to do, was let Doctor Saltzman mourn his dead wife alone. Even if Nathaniel never got the chance to meet her.
Alaric took a deep breath. "I'm going to find whatever monster did this and kill it. Slowly."
Nathaniel nodded. "I second that."
Suddenly, a loud, evil-sounding laugh was heard behind Doctor Saltzman, and Nathaniel and Alaric quickly turned to see a shadowy figure approaching them. "It wouldn't do you any good."
The man with the strong English accent walked closer to them as Nathaniel lifted his flashlight, illuminating the stranger to reveal a man whose face seemed to have been torn off and resewn onto his skull. His appearance looked almost like that of a zombie, with worn, leathery pale skill, pale ice-blue eyes surrounded by dark shadows, and a mouthful of sharp fang-like teeth.
"My, my," Nathaniel couldn't help but snort, feigning an over-exaggerated British accent. "Looks like Halloween came early this year!"
Alaric rolled his eyes. "And who the hell are you?"
The man scoffed, clearly offended by Alaric's bravado. "Oh, your pathetic attempt at humor does nothing to mask your fear. Tremble then in the presence of the Necromancer!" An evil laugh ensued and once it quieted down a silence followed.
Nathaniel snorted once again. "Dude, you seriously fell off the wagon, huh?"
The Necromancer narrowed his eyes on Nathaniel. "And what might you be?"
"I'm a Nephilim, old chap," Nathaniel stated, chest puffing out as he looked down the odd man. "Most powerful being in existence if you want to be technical. Now, want to tell me what the hell a Necromancer is?"
"Not 'A' Necromancer, 'the' Necromancer," the Necromancer scoffed, seeming upset that he wasn't as well-known as he wanted to be. "Bringer of life and death! He who holds the Fates' threads! The cursed king of the underworld!"
Nathaniel huffed out a chuckle. "Oh, you poor thing! If you're the king, you lost your crown a millennium ago, hot shot. My father's currently awaiting to regain that throne, you might want to get a new hobby."
Alaric snorted. "All I know about necromancers is from video games... And they're like, low-level witch cannon fodder."
The Necromancer laughed. "I am no mere witch! There is only one of me, I assure you. And now you've seen what I can do. Let's get down to the business of a certain knife..."
Alaric's face quickly contorted to one of anger as he glared the monster down. "If you're the one responsible for what when down today..." the Necromancer nodded, eager to take credit for his pain. "You're gonna wish you were someone else."
"You're fucked," Nathaniel chuckled at the Necromancer.
The Necromancer scoffed at the threat in Alaric's voice. "I told you- death cannot hold me."
Alaric sighed before reaching out for the shovel that was next to him. "Buddy..." Doctor Saltzman picked up the shovel and swung, hitting the Necromancer in the face with the blade so hard it snapped his neck and caused him to fall motionless to the ground. "We'll see about that."
ββββββ β
ββββββ
unedited.
hi bbs,
so, how are we feeling about rafael waithe?
tbh, i like him on the show but he's a little
annoying in this book ngl lmao. also, next
few chapters are gonna be a somewhat sad
because you'll get to see nate's back story
BαΊ‘n Δang Δα»c truyα»n trΓͺn: Truyen247.Pro