𝗷𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗶𝗸𝗹𝗮𝘂𝘀.

𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗸𝗮𝗸𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 (𝗮𝗱𝗷);

composed of both good and evil

❝...unless i am myself, i am nobody...❞
—Virginia Woolf

𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲, 𝗮 𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗲𝗴.
𝗮 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸

𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮' 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝘆. 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘆

❝...the fact we expect love to hurt is pretty fucked up...❞
—J.B

𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁

𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗳

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀

𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘀, 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

in which jordanna jones wakes from a long slumber, finding herself with more demons to fight

OR.

klaus' most annoying ex turns up in town, giving jordanna a perfect target for her emotions

JORDANNA JONES WAS dead.

Kinda'.

She wasn't dead, but she wasn't alive at the same time. She just simply wasn't there. In spirit? She was alive, her body wasn't desiccated, she merely laid there perfectly still, not moving an inch, but in human terms? She was dead, well . . . deader than a vampire could be.

Her body wasn't responding to blood, there was no heartbeat, no movement, no blood-flow. Nothing. She was just . . . empty. Like a statue for everyone to gawk at at a museum. Or an animal in a zoo.

Klaus didn't know what to do with himself, all he could do was sit by her—waiting. Waiting on her to wake up, waiting on her to move . . . just the littlest bit, to show him that she was still there. That she wasn't gone. That she hadn't left him yet.

He sat by her for mere hours. Sometimes he'd talk to her—hoping that she could hear him, sometimes he'd just bring Ares in to see her, other times he'd just be there with her. Staring at her . . . as creepy as it sounds, but it helped him cope with all the little things going on around him—after, yet another, quarrel with Elijah, where would he go? To see Jordanna. When someone pissed him off ( most likely Hayley ), he'd go sit by her—holding his hand in her own cold, delicate skin. She felt dead, when he touched her. It felt like he was staring into an abyss of memories, both good and bad. All the little fights, all the kisses, the talks—those odd few sweet moments that they shared he would relish in, wishing he could go back in time to tell her that he loved her more—or to tell her that she was right ( she was always damn near right, always ).

He liked to draw her, as well, 'capturing her beauty while he could,' he'd say. He never knew if this was permanent and if it was, he wanted something, something to hold on to. His mind would always drift back to them words she spoke, whenever it got hard, "You're Klaus Mikaelson, I'm sure you'll figure something out." But would he . . . figure something out?

He didn't think that he was capable of this type of pain, this type of heartache. But he was, and he hated it. Every second of it. It was agony. Like someone was slowly ripping his heart from his chest.

He had spilt more blood in the past six months than he had in a year . . . he threatened witch-doctor to witch-doctor, witch to witch—anyone that might know as to why she was yet to awaken. But no one knew nothing, no one understood it—but why would they? It was part of her family's history and they had kept it to themselves, not letting the rest of the supernatural community divulge into their business.

For Jordanna, it was hell. The first month it was like darkness had consumed her, swallowing her whole. It felt like she couldn't breathe. Like she was trapped in a small box, banging and banging against the walls until finally . . . it suffocated her. She felt like a mouse caught in the grasp of a wired trap. And when the second month approached she finally began seeing things—and she could've screamed with joy because anything would've been better than that hell.

. . . She'd rather go back to that hell.

Over and over again she saw Klaus. Not the Klaus she wanted to see. No, she saw his body. His dead body. Her worst fear come to life. She had to endure staring at his desiccated body for months. Watching as he greyed before he lit up in flames—and it went on and on.

And slowly the torture grew. First it was Klaus . . . then it was Ares, and then she had to relive Athena's death. Over and over again. Each more anguishing than before.

This was nature's way of making her pay. Making her pay for something she never asked for back. Her magic. It was a curse, remember? It wasn't a gift. It wasn't a second chance for her. Her grandfather got the lucky end of the deal—he merely went crazy with the dark magic that ran through his veins.

Jordanna? She went through hell and back. All because she was both vampire and witch. That shouldn't have happened.

She was paying for being an 'abomination'.

Jordanna would've rolled her eyes at that, but well . . . she was in no state to.

Eventually it stopped. The images. The torturous movie of the ones she loved dying stopped after four months. But just because it stopped didn't mean she stopped seeing it. It was all she could see now, every damn time she shut her eyes—or whenever she looked at Klaus, his face taunted her, reminding her of those hellish six months she endured . . . and she simply couldn't do it anymore.

During the last month, the sixth month of her slumber, she could move. Wherever she was, it was dark, like a sea of black swallowed her whole, pulling her back down whenever she tried to gasp for air, to get that quick release, that breath she needed ever so dearly . . . but still, she could move.

And that's when she saw it. People. People from her past, people she had killed. All waiting there for her . . . or perhaps she was waiting there for them.

Only one thing momentarily stopped the pained images of Klaus, Ares and Athena running through her mind. And that one thing was something that she knew quite well.

Torturing those meant to torment her.

They were supposed to mess with her head, drive her crazy. But even in her subconscious Jordanna took control of the situation.

That was until she woke up . . . and that small grasp she had on reality slipped from her fingers, washing away like blood in water.

AUTHOR'S NOTE !!

i remember when i first started writing a klaus fanfic and it was the soulmate troupe lmao and the fc was shelley hennig but then cause im a dumb bitch i accidentally deleted the enTIRE thing and here we are with deadish jj<3

i thank myself for deleting that fic everyday