Chapter Text
It’s been years since I’ve seen a face ‘round here.
I was broken and alone in that Hell I call my home.
Should’ve left me to decay.
Finding me was your worst mistake.
And I’ve found my new obsession.
Now it’s just you and me.
Salvaged by NateWantsToBattle
The water was freezing .
It could have been collected from melting ice or snow.
In fact, she believed that it was.
She was unceremoniously plunged into it and scrubbed with various soaps and brushes, scrubbing away the dirt, debris and calluses, the entire time the servants were assuring her that they’d have her ready for their master.
And they’d told her the water would be good for her, keeping her skin fresh and youthful.
That made her heart thump painfully.
What did he want with her?
Just as she was considering this, the servants moved on to methodically shaving hair from her body with pumice.
“Don’t ye worry,” one of the girls had said with a crooked smile. “He’ll take right good care of ye.”
She couldn’t speak, respond.
Every moment from her being snatched off the street to now had been filled to the brim with pulse pounding terror.
She wanted to go home.
Tears glistened in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in hot rivulets.
If the servants noticed, they didn’t say anything.
Instead, they focused on her hair washing it until the lovely gold had returned and shimmered under the candlelight.
Then she was removed from the bathwater and dried, her body powdered with perfume.
She remained silent throughout the process.
And even as she was dressed in silks and muslin.
The corset had made it difficult to breathe anyway.
She couldn’t wrap her mind around why anyone would want to wear one.
But then again, the perfect hourglass figure was sought after by the ladies of the upper class.
“There!” One of the servants had said after they’d curled and pinned her golden locks.
The pins had pearls attached to them, shimmering in gentle rainbows beneath the light.
“Pretty as a picture,” The other cooed.
She barely recognized herself.
This wasn’t her.
And just like that, she quivered again, but forced herself not to cry.
She wouldn’t.
It wouldn’t help her one bit.
Then she was led from the room down a hallway that was lit only by torches that were leaning precariously in their wall sconces.
The hallway was bare, brick and cobblestone.
For a moment, she feared that they were bringing her to the dungeons.
But no.
She was brought to a bedroom.
It was huge!
Bigger than her own home, with a bed that could fit an entire family resting at its center.
The bed looked so soft, far softer than the lumpy bed that she’d had.
Red splashed the room with its violent color.
From the bedding and canopy to the other furniture.
This man must be royalty to live so well.
“Well, then,” A man’s rich and honeyed voice reached her ears, bouncing off the walls.
She’d been simply standing in awe at the room and hadn’t noticed him.
When she turned to see him, she froze.
She’d expected a ghoulish man, old and horrid to the eyes.
Instead, she’d been greeted with a handsome, well-groomed, young man who couldn’t be much older than she.
He stood tall, his posture regal and relaxed.
His eyes were the deepest and purest blue.
And his dark hair had the softest curl to it, almost lazy.
And the smirk on his plump lips.
She felt a rush of heat waft over her.
She was caught staring.
“A - a - my sincerest apologies,” She finally spoke as he crossed the room to her.
She expected a sharp reprimand.
In fact, she flinched as he neared, half expecting his hand to be brought down upon her.
For him to set his signet ring on her.
Leaving a mark, a harsh reminder of her insolence.
He didn’t.
But she still couldn’t help but recoil ever so slightly when she felt his fingers upon her skin.
He lifted her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him.
“Why do you cower from me, little fawn?” He asked, his voice so soft and gentle it could have been mistaken for a lover’s caress.
“Are you not insulted that I stare?” She asked in return.
“Not at all,” He purred, turning her to face the mirror. “Do you see as I do?”
“Whatever could you mean?” She stammered, looking at their reflections.
Peering into the mirror, she could see the way they matched.
It was uncanny.
From their resplendent attire to the way he held her.
It was as if they had been made for each other.
“We have,” He answered her unspoken thought as if he’d heard it.
Perhaps he had.
“Whyever would you say such a thing?” She found herself asking more questions than answering them this night.
“Because you are mine, little fawn.” He murmured, his fingers trailing down the sinful curve of her neck.
“As you are mine?” She inquired.
His chuckle was rich and luscious.
But he didn’t speak.
Instead, he planted his lips upon her throat, humming quietly.
The pleasant ripples that spread from his touch left her shivering.
Then she saw it.
The flash of sharp teeth in the mirror as his lips skinned back.
His forceful hand clamped around her mouth before she could scream.
And scream she did.
But it was all in vain, his hand muffled her cries as those sharp teeth tore at her skin.
Heat blazed from the wound, hotter than any fire.
Caroline Forbes bolted upright, clutching at her neck with a gasp as her mother burst into the room.
“Caroline, are you okay?” Her mother was shouting, worry palpable in both tone and expression.
“Yeah,” Caroline stuttered, gasping in lungfuls of oxygen.
Her body had broken out in cold sweat and she couldn’t stop shaking.
That nightmare had felt all too real.
She felt herself calming until…
“You’re bleeding!” Liz gasped.
Caroline frantically checked herself, “I - it’s not mine! ” She realized.
The crimson fluid that stained her hands had blotted her pajamas and her bedding before finding itself smudged along her neck.
But she wasn’t bleeding.
Her eyes scanned the room before falling on her vanity across the room and she bolted back, head slamming against her headboard so forcefully she saw stars.
She pointed, gasping and attempting to cry out, “There!”
Her mom leaped to her feet, equally horrified.
A crow laid upon its back, a pair of silver scissors plunged through it, congealed blood spread around it and frozen in the act of dripping from the table like a macabre stalactite.
Scrawled on the mirror above the horrid taxidermy were the words, He’s coming.
“Caroline,” Liz breathed out.
“What is this?” Caroline croaked, shaking as tears rolled down her cheeks.
But deep down, she could feel what it was.
A warning.