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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍.
[0𝟕]. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑.
【 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 】
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❛ 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘐𝘚
𝘎𝘖𝘕𝘕𝘈 𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘔𝘌? ❜
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𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋'𝐒 favorite day of the year. In fact, put it next to Lizzie and Josie's birthday and he'd pick the day the twins grazed the earth before even thinking about it. Death was a common thing amongst the supernatural. But it was even more common when it came to the nephilim that knew loss before he knew family.

Which is why Nathaniel kept himself busy from writing that dreaded letter Alaric made him write every year. And until that point, it was working. Doctor Saltzman was too busy torturing the Necromancer to remind Nathaniel he had to write the damn thing, and the nephilim was just happy passing axes and blowtorches onto Alaric.

And just as Alaric blew the blowtorch, in came Hope.

"Hey," Nathaniel brought in her attention.

And Hope blushed slightly. "Hey."

"Oh, there you are, lovely girl," the Necromancer interrupted, and Nathaniel couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd come visit me again. How's your friend, the one I saw you with earlier, trying to steal an illicit peek at me?"

"As we speak, he's having an emotional reunion with his dead girlfriend," Hope responded, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm assuming we have you to thank."

"Poor thing. Her spirit was clinging to him like a vine in winter. It barely took any effort," the Necromancer bragged. "Just a little wrinkle of the nose, and poof. You're lucky that's all I did. The way you've treated a man of my stature, you should be ashamed."

Nathaniel scrunched up his face. "Literally no one knows who you are, Dawn of the Dead."

The Necromancer scoffed. "That's impossible."

Alaric rolled his eyes. "I'll check on Raf. Nate, watch him please."

Nathaniel smirked. "Yes, sir."

Once Alaric and Hope were gone, Nathaniel jumped off the table he was sat upon before pulling a chair before the Necromancer, the only thing separating them being the bars that held him captive. As the nephilim sat, he looked the undead man over, taking in everything he could, trying to find any kind of weakness.

"You know," the Necromancer started as he tilted his head. "You've got death written all over you. It suits you quite honestly."

Nathaniel snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

The Necromancer hummed. "If your mother hates you or not."

Nathaniel's whole demeanor faltered. "You're playing with fire."

"It's a good thing I'm dead then, isn't it?" The Necromancer taunted before continuing with his rant. "You worry a lot about it, I can see that. Lost her as a baby because she brought you to life. So desolate."

"That's life," Nathaniel shrugged, pulling off his apathetic attitude without a hitch. "You think you're going to rile me up, don't you? I'm a Nephilim, you ass. You'd be dead if Alaric didn't want answers from you. Trust me on that."

The Necromancer huffed sarcastically. "Well, you've caught me."

Nathaniel snorted. "Oh, don't play coy with me. We both know you're scared out of your mind. The name Lucifer doesn't ring any bells, but you know someone else is in line for your throne and that's me. You can sense it- my grace. You're shaking inside and I'm enjoying every second of it."

The Necromancer faltered if only for a second, but Nathaniel caught it. "What is a Nephilim exactly?"

"Aren't you the almighty Necromancer?" it was Nathaniel's turn to taunt. "I thought you would've known by now. Seeing as you already know my birth mom died in childbirth."

"There's a limit to my knowledge."

Nathaniel hummed. "How about this: I answer that and in return, I get answers from you."

The Necromancer thought for a second. "Deal."

"Alright then," Nathaniel sat himself up right. "Nephilim's are offsprings of angels and humans. Lucifer- God's favorite angel, and my mom had me. I was too strong, and she died while Lucifer ended up in a cage in hell after some hunters caught up to him."

The Necromancer hummed. "Fascinating. How truly powerful are you?"

Nathaniel smirked. "Don't you feel it?"

"I do," the Necromancer admitted. "But still, I'm curious."

"I could end the world in a second."

The Necromancer paused. "And why don't you?" But he didn't give Nathaniel the chance to answer before he continued. "I mean, you're full of grief, hatred. There's an anger coming from you that's almost as powerful as the reek of death. The uneasiness you feel about your mother's feelings and where she is have led you to be the way you are- closed off."

"Stop trying to play with my head," Nathaniel grumbled.

The Necromancer ignored Nathaniel completely as something came to him. "Although- it's not just your mother's soul latching on to you. You've died. Recently, may I add. Something about that is fuzzy. How are you still here?"

Nathaniel fidgeted. "You could say I have a guardian angel."

The Necromancer let his head fall back as a small chuckle abandoned him. "You're so broken inside. It's like there's pins holding you together."

And Nathaniel had just about enough when those words were out in the open. The nephilim balled his left hand into a fist and soon after the Necromancer started coughing up black smoke. Nathaniel disliked the disrespect- hated when people brought up his family. Yes, he had a new one. But Nathaniel never got the chance to meet the woman that birthed him. And it clawed at him that he didn't know if she died despising him for what happened.

"Nate!"

Hope's voice brought Nathaniel in.

But there wasn't a chance in hell the nephilim was going to stop his assault- until Hope's arms encircled Nathaniel. He felt her wrap herself around his middle and a bright red light shined on his chest, just above where his heart would lay. In seconds, Nathaniel's fist untensed and the Necromancer stopped coughing. The nephilim's breathing was uneven, but still, his hand found Hope's before squeezing lightly.

"We need answers from him," Hope reminded.

And Nathaniel nodded. "I know."

"You'll pay for this," the Necromancer coughed out.

"Boo-fucking-hoo," Nathaniel spat back.

Hope walked around Nathaniel to stand next to the nephilim before giving a slight clutch to his forearm to keep him from talking. Nathaniel obliged halfheartedly as a huff abandoned his lips. Hope on the other hand turned to the Necromancer before flicking her wrist to dispose of the cuffs that held the creature.

"I thought we could talk."

The Necromancer stood; signaling towards Nathaniel. "After the way I've been treated? I'm done talking."

"You owe me answers, the walking dead," Nathaniel reminded while crossing his arms over his chest. "Give those to her. Unless you aren't a man of your word."

The Necromancer scoffed. "Fine. Such a puny creature dares to dalliance with the almighty Necromancer?"

"Well, here's the thing about that. You don't exist."

"I won't fall for your mind games."

"This isn't a game."

The conversation proceeded with Hope telling the creature that was after the knife what he had felt in the pit before being topside again, along with a burning need for said knife. Then came the creatures. The dragon, the gargoyle, the Arachne. And the Necromancer's doubt in everything Hope said because he deemed them creatures of fiction, though what the he didn't grasp was that they were erased from history. Like him.

The Necromancer laughed. "That's preposterous. I'm world-renowned. People tremble at the sound of my name."

Nathaniel snorted tauntingly. "Oh, yeah. I'm quacking."

Hope gave Nathaniel a look and the nephilim smirked uncarefully in her direction. The tribrid hid her smile behind a scowl before turning to the Necromancer and throwing a pile of books into the cell. And after a few minutes, when the Necromancer was up to speed, did the complaints come into play. A brand of sorcery, the creature called it. And the need to know who was responsible was stronger than anything else.

That's when things started to make even less sense.

Less of a voice, and more of an instinct. The Necromancer knew things without really knowing how he knew them. The knife had to be returned to Malivore to be free from the void. The empty oblivion. And the symbol they had been seeing everywhere was the ultimate hell, as the Necromancer called it. Loosely translated, permanent death.

Complete oblivion.

And even though they didn't completely grasp everything the Necromancer had to say, Hope continued. And that's when another Hope Mikaelson idea was announced. A walk through the Necromancer's subconscious. And Nathaniel didn't want to play with anything that had to do with the creature's mind.

"What purpose does this even serve?" Nathaniel asked.

Hope sighed. "We find out who killed him. With that we can try to locate Malivore."

"He could be lying to us," Nathaniel huffed.

"There's only one way to find out," Hope almost pleaded.

And Nathaniel sighed heavily after a second. "I'll get MG."

The next few minutes were MG preparing himself to send the tribrid and the nephilim into the Necromancer's head. Nathaniel, still uneasy with Hope's plan, put his hand on the creature's left shoulder as the tribrid laid her hand on his right. As the nephilim closed his eyes to follow through with Hope's chaotic idea, his stomach fluttered whilst he breathed in heavily through his nose.

And once Nathaniel came back to himself, his scenery had changed completely-

Surrounding the nephilim was a place all to familiar to him. A place he never wanted to revisit, even if it still existed. The wooden floors and the pearly white walls brought back too many memories for Nathaniel and it was like the wind was knocked out of him. And it helped even less when the Necromancer sat comfortably at the marble counter his foster mother used to bang his head against when she was angry.

"You think this is gonna shake me?" Nathaniel's eyes shined gold.

The Necromancer chuckled. "It already has, has it not?"

Nathaniel's scoffed, seemingly unfazed. "It's gonna take more than that to have me squirming. You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with and it shows."

The Necromancer shrugged. "We're just getting started."

Nathaniel shook his head. "Where's Hope?"

"Around. Had to separate you and the girl for a bit," the Necromancer announced. "Speaking of. I should be checking on her. Don't want to leave her alone for too long, do we? Try not to get lost."

"What are you-"

And just like that the Necromancer was gone.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Nathaniel grumbled under his breath.

As Nathaniel began to roam his late home, the grace roving his veins raced through him, making the nephilim feel anxious. Nathaniel had always associated his foster home with an unsafe place. Somewhere he was placed but didn't belong. And his foster mother had no trouble in reminding him of that. Until one day, Nathaniel just snapped.

The nephilim burned the place down with her in it.

And though he was just a child, it was enough to anger God.

But Nathaniel didn't really like reliving that story.

A few seconds into the second floor, Nathaniel came to a stop before the door that lead to his old room. A giant sigh abandoned the nephilim as he saw the cracks on the wood. Reminding him of the many battles lost but trying to remind himself he still remained in the war. With a shake to his shoulders, Nathaniel turned the knob and swung open the door to reveal nothingness.

It was pitch black. And Nathaniel could see there were no stairs or handles. It was oblivion. So, with a leap of faith, the nephilim sighed heavily before turning his back on the door frame. With his eyes closed, he slowly let himself fall back. And as the nephilim fell, the peace that overtook him wasn't like anything he had experienced before. An exception maybe being heaven.

The nephilim woke some time later after not feeling the hit of the fall. Nothingness still surrounded him. Nathaniel slowly stood to look around and a frustrated huff left him. The Necromancer was playing games with him, and Nathaniel was just about ready to throw it all away to satisfy his need in ending the damn thing.

"Hey! Almighty Necromancer," Nathaniel called out sarcastically with an echo, visibly annoyed by the whole situation. "You're gonna have to try harder than just turning off the lights."

And maybe Nathaniel should have refrained from that sentence.

Because God was just about to give him another fuck you to go with the rest of them.

"Hello?"

The nephilim instantly turned to the melodic voice and when his eyes connected with the woman it belonged to, his world came crashing down to his feet.

Nathaniel couldn't help but hate himself.

"Mom?"

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unedited.
oh, hi
i wanted to let you guys know why i've been
m.i.a and haven't been updating this book.
1) my computer died again, but my cousin
recently fixed it for free, so yay on that.
2) legacies transcripts are hard to come across,
so i wrote this whole chapter looking up clips
on youtube. (that's what i call dedication).
3) my dumbass went and fell in love and now
i'm getting married in a few months lmao.
(no, it's not a joke. deadass gonna be a wife).
(yes i'm twenty, who cares lmao).
4) i ended up dropping out of college for
what i asume will be a semester, not sure.

so yeah, big update lmao
please let me know if you like
this chapter, babes!