(CHAPTER THIRTEEN :
RUIN)

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'SCARY MARY' HAD NEVER been such an appropriate nickname until now. With good reason, the title had been attached Mary Porter over time for her ominous ways — nobody could figure out the complexity of the woman's craziness. If that was not warning enough, the door had a creek, one that would make somebody yell at the protagonist to turn around. Then, there was the dim light, the kind that created the worst sort of my mystery. Even if I were to discard the cobwebs and dust, the house, her, all of it, left my stomach clenched. Above all, I prided myself on my impeccable instincts and right now, I was told that Antarctica would be too close to this woman.

"I mean, it's better than the motel." I chirped, the tension in the air tight and thick. "If you open up the space more and have a little more colour, I don't know, everywhere, then I think this could be extremely cosy." I rambled, unable to tolerate silence. However, both parties sent me the signature 'shut up' glare.

Damon released a breathy laugh, refreshed by my techniques of avoiding his romantic quest with Elena. "Mmm, more like Vampire Hoarders." He corrected.

I ignored his concentrated gaze, instead opting to shine my torch around the space. "So, who is this Mary person?" I questioned casually, shedding some light on certain areas around the room.

"Scary Mary." He repeated the nickname I heard in the air once or twice. "She's super old, really creepy." The Salvatore nonchalantly continued.

"And how do you know her?"

Elena spoke up. Not that it surprised me, the jealousy was detectable in her words, no doubt due to her complicated relationship with the elder vampire. I didn't even know where they stood, there was a certain sense of seclusion surrounding their status. On the other hand, I knew she hadn't cut off ties with Stefan and I wanted to support Damon — he was my best friend — but hated that his brother had to be hurt in the process. As confused as I was, I could tell that the lust was there, at least, because of their 'little more than a kiss' earlier. Nobody needed enhanced hearing for that.

"I dated her." He responded, predictable as ever. Sometimes, the Gilbert held him to a high standard when both of us knew that he would have sex with anybody with a pulse, without one in some cases.

Undoubtedly, she was hurt, but played off the feeling by rolling her brown eyes. "Of course." She murmured.

"What?" Damon snapped, a part of him content he managed to get under the skin of his brother's girlfriend. "I said creepy, not ugly." He reiterated to defend himself, the smug expression permanently placed on his face.

'BANG' could be heard, preventing their miniature argument from escalating further. The piercing noise had came from the room ahead, all of us had our eyes zoned in on the distance, our bodies shifting in anticipation as we waited to see who would lead the investigation. When neither took the lead, I walked forward, Damon pursuing me after ensuring the brunette was sandwiched in the safest position — between the two of us. Elena had her torch to guide us, but I was forced to pluck my own out again when I noted the shakiness of the light. All three of us were on edge, I just concealed my panic better.

"Is that...?" I squeaked, my mouth falling ajar at the twisted sight before me.

Unwillingly, my blue eyes transformed to bottomless swimming pools. When I twisted my torch, the dark outline of a body became apparent to be a desiccated vampire. Pinned by a carved wooden stake, a woman rested, her tangled hair crowning her veined skin. By the lack of rotting and fresh blood stains, we could only assume that her death was recent — likely to have been today, a few hours ago at most. To think we were too late was disappointing, but who was in the house with us made me gulp.

"Mary." Damon finished the sentence I was unable to, shuffling closer for clarity.

Suddenly, a light flickered on. "Quite contrary." Finishing the popular nursery rhyme off was a menacing voice, luke warm and familiar like how I preferred a cup of a tea.

Kol Mikaelson had never looked so insane. Perched on a desk, he held a metallic baseball bat in his hand with a sinister grin etched onto his features. I wanted to wipe it away and repaint him how I knew him — roughed up and troublesome. Then, I looked intently at him and began to think, did I ever know the real him?

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PORTLAND, OREGON [1908]

"Monster." I mumbled, stumbling backwards until I bumped into a wall. "You are a —— I thought..." I failed to from a coherent sentence, only one word successfully invaded my mind. Monster, an unwelcome, but true, word. "How is it possible? It could not be, it is simply...inhuman." I spluttered, that word, those terrible seven letters cursing my mind again. Monster, a despicable, but accurate, word.

Hunched over a corpse, he licked his bloodied lips and kept his eyes burned into mine, unmoving. Although I knew him a few mere months, I felt like I had scooped out the superficial parts of Kol Mikaelson and truly understood him. In no way was he perfect, he had a crooked smile and crinkles underneath his eyes, but he was mine. He had an accent that made me curse like a sailor, lips like a sinner and mind like a minx, and I loved him for it. Tragically. Hopelessly. Totally. I had fell for him — literally and figuratively. Yet, he was an ugly liar with a pretty face. Here, he lazed with bodies of young women surrounding him, red wine and blood mixing in his mouth and excuses balancing on the tip of his tongue.

"Monster, I thought you'd be a little more creative than that." He commented, my body flinching when he stood up. "And a bit far fetched. I'm hardly your Father now." Kol glided over what he knew was a sensitive subject. Normally, he would never push those buttons, but he had nothing to lose now.

Against my better judgement, I closed my eyes and willed myself forward. "I know you're not him." I murmured, reaching out to touch his face, to make sure he was real, this was real. "What happened to you?" I chose my words carefully as my finger pressed on his fang.

"Family issues, of course." Kol scoffed, lowering my hand with a surprising gentleness. "When is it not family? The lot of them are bloody nuisances, making me apart of their 'always and forever' only when it's beneficial to them." He complained loudly. I was frozen, rubbing my chapped lips together anxiously as I awaited more. "Not anymore!" He roared, and I jumped out of my paralysed state from the volume. "I refuse to play pretend, to be a part of their pathetic, perfect pretence. This is me, darling. I am an Original, one of the first vampires and," his voice dropped, "I highly suggest you run."

I took a deep breath, and ran through his mansion — the place I had gotten to know like the back of my hand. Eventually, I was cornered, but had the upper hand. "You thought I would leave you." I laughed through the tears, the tears of fear. "Do you remember the night? In this room, your room, I was sure you would leave." I recalled, perking his interest as his veins retracted. "We had sex, Kol. I felt like a fool, you know. I risked it all for you, I was prepared to be disgraced by my family and my home after the warnings from people. They knew your type, they said and you wanted my purity, they said. Yet, you stayed after it all." I explained, the way he cocked his head signalled for me to proceed. "And I am certain you expect me to leave right now too. And I am certain I want to stay. Living up to expectations is boring, isn't it, darling?" I stood my ground, mocking his term of endearment to the point I was prepared for the worst. To be idiotic, I decided I would rather die with him than survive without him.

"You truly are something else, Charlotte Hatton." The Original sounded defeated. "I suppose this means I am quite stuck with you." He mused softly, not minding the thought of that at all.

"Always and forever." I breathed out in relief.

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If I reflected, I wondered if it was love, lust or loneliness. At the time, I felt like an outcast, I didn't fit in with my family or their standards, always being too 'improper' for their lifestyle — did that trick me into being with Kol? Both of us were desperate for company and hungry for acceptance. Or, I'm in complete denial because I know the truth was, I loved that maniac. Once upon a time, the man who wants to hurt my friends was my everything.

Unknowingly, Kol's every movement had me captivated, my eyes trailing his body. "Shame about Mary." The man tutted, not sounding sympathetic in the least. "She used to be a blast. Don't quite know what happened. I fear all the time she spent with my family might have ruined her." He sighed. "She was a bit of an Original groupie."

"And were you her favourite?" Simultaneously, Elena and I asked him the same question, for different reasons, I'm sure. Perhaps my reasons were more selfish.

"Jealous, darling?" He winked in my direction, I pretended to be disinterested, innocently glancing at my nails. "Do you mean did I turn her? I think I did. But no, wait, maybe it was Rebekah. There was also a Klaus period. And let's not forget the Elijah affair." Kol teased, he was a player that relished in these types of games. "I spoke to my brother, I know you're trying to find out who you descended from. Now you never will." He informed us, his voice gruff. "So, where did we leave off?" In an instant, he brightened up and began to swing the baseball bat, dangerously close to the three of us.

It was abrupt and unexpected, that seemed to be how the Originals did things. Kol struck Damon in the leg with his unusual weapon, leaving me to think fast under pressure when the younger of the two collapsed on the ground. No, that was not enough — nothing was ever satisfying enough for the Mikaelson. Repeatedly, Damon took a beating and I made a spontaneous decision to take his place. Speeding over to the men, I threw my friend across the floor and into a haven, taking the final blows. I was more deserving of his anger, I suppose.

"I don't think the role of the martyr suits you," an unimpressed Kol hesitated, "Lottie." The nickname was foreign on his tongue, it tasted bitter in his mouth and was uncomfortable for me to hear.

Eye to eye, we stared on, seeing who would break first. In the meantime, Elena had attempted to sneak away, being caught within five seconds. "According to my brother, you're off limits. Please don't test me." It was only when I snapped my gaze away to check on my friend did he surrender too, tossing the girl to the floor in a swift motion. Upon natural instinct, a distressed Damon let my sacrifice go to waste when he rushed towards his elder,  shouting at the man to not touch the girl.

Kol's face contorted at his reaction. "Oh dear, I've hit a nerve." He laughed, a booming, sadistic laugh. "Relax, darling, I just want us to be even. You snapped my neck, you killed my brother, and then you humiliated me." For each thing he did, Damon received a strike and I couldn't help but wince at the sound. "There now we're even." Kol concluded, brown meeting blue by the end of it. Almost as if he was communicating my friend's pain was my fault, for what, I was clueless. To this day, the unsolved case of Kol Mikaelson was open.

"I just want us to be even." I called over to him, making him more attentive due to the saccharine coating of my words. "You see, my love, you ruined my life." I hissed. Flashing over to the man, I violently twisted Kol's neck, catching everybody off guard. "There, now we're even." I stepped over his body with a smirk.

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A.N: I had one of my favourite flashbacks in this chapter, which was very exciting and am very excited for the developing relationships ahead. It won't be an easy road though, Lottie won't get off easy either for snapping his neck.

Team Salvatore or Team Mikaelson?