"It's not my fault you have more darkness inside of you than you ever imagined."

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        LANDON KIRBY'S SUMMER DEFINITELY TURNED AROUND. Sure, the start of it was messed up, his brother was stuck as a wolf, he had no one to talk to, and the only time he felt alive was when he was dying.

        But then came Josie Saltzman to pull him from that dark pit. She brought some light into his dark views of the world. Summer had definitely improved, and with the first week of school arriving, he was prepared to spend every second as happily as he possibly could.

        He should've known things were never good for long, because then came the day he met Henrik Mikaelson. He'd heard a little bit of him from Josie and Lizzie, and the name Mikaelson sounded familiar, he could've sworn it had something to do with some famous vampires from one of his history classes or something like that. And luckily, MG was there to fill in some blanks. Little did Landon know how important— and life-threatening— it would be to have Henrik Mikaelson in his life.

        Landon was trying his absolute best to focus on his girlfriend. But his attention span constantly shifted in the large crowd of students in the lounge. Every few minutes some random teenager was high-fiving him or calling him cool. Suffice it to say that he was on sensory overload and needed some type of break. Especially when it didn't feel— honest. He doesn't remember what he did to Malivore, whatever big boss battle went down he didn't have a clue about it. It felt like he was living someone else's life.

        Then he saw him. He saw the tall, lean, and dark-haired boy walk on the opposite side of him in the hall with Jed and only a nod in acknowledgment aimed at Landon. It was like the guy was reading his entire life story off his face, and Landon was very easy to read.

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        Henrik didn't exactly have a good night's rest. Though he rarely has the past two weeks, this time it was more crucial. After he got off the phone with his aunt, there was so much left to do. He had a lead now, the Devourers of the Dark, Malivore, whatever the hell those ancient witches were calling themselves now were the ones to take his sister. He was sure of it. And his only lead? Her old crush that somehow ended up in this bastard boarding school.

        He didn't think he was going to run into him, he really didn't. As far as he knew, Landon Kirby was just some human waiter at the Mystic Grill that had a mutual crush on Hope. And even then, that's all it was, with the rules in place about fraternizing with the local humans she couldn't exactly ask him out. Yet another thing Henrik criticized Alaric for. In New Orleans, there was an entire human faction aware of the supernaturals living there, and in time grew an uneasy respect that became deeper. But maybe that was just Henrik displaying his very public opinion on how this small town contrasted with his great city.

        The point was that he didn't expect to find Landon in this school at all. So, he came by the next day to exclusively find out what the rest of the students knew about him. He figured if Alaric knew the guy then others might as well. He ran into a few of the students along the way when he walked into the foyer of the building.

        The wolf pack leader of the school took notice of his sudden appearance and beamed at the Mikaelson's return.

        "Henrik Mikaelson," Jed grinned and gave him a quick side hug, "Heard you joined the wolf side, congrats." He said.

        "Jed, still looking good." Henrik opened with, giving the werewolf a half-smile. Though tension remained in his eyes. He wondered if Hope was the one to tell him about his new status, she probably was. He recalled when Hope had triggered her curse, she was invited to join the school's pack. Something she declined, citing that she already belonged to the Crescent Moon Pack of New Orleans and she—respectfully— didn't recognize Jed as an Alpha. This quickly ostracized her from the rest of the wolves for a few months before they came to peace. He assumed it had something to do with her being able to control her shift. Henrik didn't have a problem with Jed personally, though their initiation process of revealing who it was that you killed to trigger your curse was much more passive than say— brawling or being beaten into submission like other packs out there— he didn't approve of the pack's tendency to make sure every wolf that came to the school would join them, regardless of choice. Eh, who was he to judge? It's exactly what his father did to make hybrids. "Who's your friend?" He motioned toward the unknown student. He was dark-skinned with long braided dreads and a strong jaw.

        "We're not friends." They said in unison almost too quickly.

        Nevertheless, the other boy was polite despite the equal disdain between him and Jed, "How you doing? I'm Kaleb," He offered his hand in greeting which Henrik took to shake. "Nice to meet you."

        "Henrik Mikaelson." He held his hand as the cold spots pointed out what the guy in front of him was, "You're a vampire." He stated.

        "Yeah, how'd you know, sniffed me out?" Kaleb asked.

        "You could say that." Henrik remained vague, while he did indeed smell him earlier, the physical touch had confirmed it. Most witches could sense the death inside vampires. The smell, however, was a very quick giveaway. His mother was right, vampires had this specific scent to them, it was like stepping inside an empty house that had its windows and doors shut for months or years with a touch of wood. It was strange, his family didn't smell like that. To him, they simply smelled like family.

        "Mikaelson here is an overachiever, he just couldn't stick to one thing, could he?" Jed attempted to make a joke only to be met with a cold stare from the tribrid.

        "Jed, I think I've told you plenty of times that you're much prettier when you're quiet," He gave him an empty smile that told Jed to mind his business, "This is one of those moments." He didn't like talking about his tribrid nature, it tended to alienate people, especially handsome vampires who were afraid of a werewolf that could change at free will.

        "Mikaelson," Kaleb tested the name out loud, "Sounds familiar, where are you from?"

        "New Orleans, but you probably heard plenty of my family in your vampire history classes," Henrik will admit, he sounds like a bit of a hypocrite when answering honestly about familial questions yet made sure Jed would stay quiet about Henrik himself. He didn't like people talking about him, about his personal history, but if someone asked him a direct question about it he wasn't about to lie or hide from it. He did that for too long. That didn't mean it didn't make him wary about it. His name did carry enemies of all sorts.

        "Wait a minute, you mean like the Original Family of vampires? Didn't they go extinct like a decade ago?" Henrik came to learn that Kaleb didn't exactly think before he spoke. Or maybe he did, he just didn't know the severity of whom he was talking to.

        "Oh trust me, there are still plenty around, alive and kicking." He gave him a knowing smile that only made Kaleb nod in the classic vampire way they all did when they learned more about his background. Respectful, but also instantly cautious and sometimes even too afraid to say anything. "See, that was their mistake. Even with only one of us alive, we'll make sure to take out whoever was responsible. What's that old expression? Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe." Henrik was silent and thinking before he broke into a laugh. While Jed disliked Kaleb, the wolf joined in the laughter after a bit of awkward silence, trying to ease the situation.

        "Speaking of wolves, where's the rest of your pack?" Henrik turned to the werewolf, "I got some thoughts on full moons I've wanted to share with you guys and might as well now that I'm here."

        Jed started nodding his head before he could even process it, "Yeah sure, um, they're probably in the gym, follow me,"

        "Nice meeting you, Kaleb." Henrik nodded at the young vampire.

        "Yeah, you too," Kaleb replied warily with a quick nod and waved in return.

        And that's where he was, walking through the halls with Jed as the werewolf spoke of some of the new members in the pack when Henrik saw him. Landon Kirby, hands entwined with none other than Josie Saltzman. Now that the tribrid knew where to find him, he relaxed a bit and gave him a nod in greeting before he kept walking.

        It didn't occur to him a few minutes later that Landon had been talking about Josie the other night. They had been having relationship trouble— and last time he checked his sister had a crush on him. He needed to ask around before approaching him again— or Josie for that matter.

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        Landon didn't know how to feel about seeing the same stranger twice around. It was weird, you pour your problems out to some random guy and have a nice conversation and then you see him again so now it's just awkward. Should it be awkward? Should he introduce himself? He let his anxiety settle a bit when he began to wonder what he was to be inside the Salvatore School. A part of him wanted to say witch because that was the highest number of students enrolled, but the other told him to not assume anything just yet.

        Josie noticed the small exchange in curiosity, wondering when Landon would've had the time to meet Henrik, and for Henrik to actually be polite. "You two know each other?"

        Landon looked back to where he was still walking away, feeling like something was missing. It was a weird itch in the back of his head, "Not really," he spoke honestly, "We just uh, shared a milkshake once." He avoided mentioning the relationship advice.

        "You shared a milkshake with Henrik Mikaelson?" Josie had to admit, that wasn't something she ever thought would come out of her mouth.

        His head moved so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash, "That's Henrik Mikaelson?" He asked, incredulously looking back to where the boy disappeared down the hall.

        "He was here yesterday, don't you remember? Lizzie went off about him for like five minutes."

        "I remember that— I just— I never actually saw the guy." He said. What was it that Lizzie said about him again? Something about a date being stolen, and how his dad was some kind of evil ancient dude. Not that Landon was one to judge considering his current position. "Hey, um, yesterday you said that he used to go here, right?"

        She nodded, "Yeah, about two years ago, then he dropped out."

        Landon, ever the curious lad, had to ask, "Do you know why?" His mind ran a mile a minute, he could see kids getting expelled or transferring, but dropping out of such a great place? He wondered if the problem lay in the student or the school. But there was something else— he could have sworn he heard something about Henrik months ago. It was on the tip of his tongue and just when he tried to remember— it was gone.

        "We're not allowed to talk about it," She got sheepish and shy all of a sudden, it was like Josie reverted to who she was two years ago when her father made her swear to not bring it up and to make sure Lizzie wouldn't either.

        "It's not like I'm going to gossip, the only guy I talk to has four legs and a tail." He tried to appeal without being pushy.

        She contemplated it for a good minute before giving up and speaking in a quiet voice, "Well, two years ago on the football field—"

        Before Josie could get another word in, Lizzie appeared next to her, "Why did I just see the spawn of Satan laughing it up with the wolves in the gym?"

        Out of nowhere, MG appeared using his vampire speed to approach them, making everyone jump for a second. "I just heard that Henrik Mikaelson is on school grounds." Lizzie groaned at the end of his sentence.

        "I forgot, you're one of his groupies." She muttered.

        "Okay, what is it about this guy? Who is he?" Landon asked them.

        MG got up close to Landon, "He's impossible." the vampire said as they all turned to watch as Henrik walked in the middle of the wolf pack onto the school grounds. "His family are the Mikaelsons, the Originals." Landon's eyes still grew with curiosity, not understanding the title so MG elaborated. "The Original Family of vampires? As in the first vampires ever."

        At that, his eyes grew in fear and wonder. "Wow, so, what is he like really old or something? What's he doing here?"

        "Oh no, Henrik's just a few years older than us," Josie motioned to her sister and herself. "His father was Klaus Mikaelson, the first hybrid creature of a werewolf and a vampire. I think there was something to do with—"

        "Since his father was the first hybrid, the werewolf part, the living part, gave him the loophole to procreate," MG interrupted her, clearly having been studying this for a long time. "Now, that kid didn't just inherit the werewolf curse or fancy old vampire blood, but the family's seriously old and powerful witch magic. He's a hybrid mix of all three creatures, a tribrid." Without missing a beat he started listing, "He's a witch who can still do magic even after triggering his werewolf curse. He's a wolf that can control his shifting. And I heard rumors that two years ago he used his vampire blood to turn one of the werewolves into a hybrid. He's literally impossible."

        "That was just a rumor and never officially proven," Josie quickly intervened, "Only made up because they were both from New Orleans." She stressed.

        Landon switched around the topic, obvious that his girlfriend wanted to move away from the hybrid talk, "Wait, so he's coming back to study here?" His eyes grew, his brain filling with bad thoughts. You don't exactly want to be sleeping down the hall from someone related to mass murderers. But when he thought it, he cringed at realizing how hypocritical he sounded, after all, he was the son of Malivore.

        "He sort of dropped out or was pulled out? I just know he isn't exactly allowed to enroll back in." Josie shrugged it off, clearly wanting to stop the Henrik talk.

        But her sister didn't, "He kind of went off the rails after his parents died, went to some school overseas, probably contacted a bunch of STIs, and even if he says he's only here for a short while I know he's back to make our lives infinitely worse." Lizzie gave a deadpan smile filled with sarcasm before making a frown, "And I was having such a good week."

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        "I'm telling you, it's much better to just vice versa the situation. Instead of confining the wolves to the dungeons and setting up spells to keep you in, just do the opposite. Put barrier spells around a good chunk of the school's property so the wolves don't get out and no one gets in. To keep the vampire students safe, place another barrier spell on the school and just let yourselves run freely."

        "It sounds great and it sounds smart, but I seriously doubt it's going to happen," Jed said in response to the ideas.

        Another one of the wolves spoke up, dark curly-haired with sympathetic eyes, "Yeah, I mean we don't even have teachers that are werewolves around here." She said.

        Henrik grimaced, "See, that's what I mean, the first headmistress was a vampire, then a human, now I hear you have some type of witch researcher from London whilst the rest of the staff is comprised of mainly witches. If you have no one here to advocate for you, how will you ever gain any trust or even help around here?" He said, trying to spark some type of realization into the young pack. "In New Orleans, the Crescents can change at free will, yes, but before that, they were just like you— beholden to the moon. Only they let themselves be free and enjoy it. Instead of hiding away in the dark and in pain, afraid of what you are or what you might do. And that freedom is what gave them more control, and quenched their aggression and their bloodlust. I've been traveling a lot and I've met other packs. As far as I could tell, the Crescents are the calmest and the most at peace with what they are."

        Henrik stopped himself when he noticed Jed stand up straight from the stack of mats he was leaning against. He composed himself and held his head high as Henrik turned to see what had interrupted them. A slightly older fellow, perhaps Saltzman's age, dressed in white regal wear like he was going to a garden party. He had a hard-to-miss, very tacky, large ruby ring on his left hand as he balanced on a closed umbrella.

        He had a posh English accent, and every word out of his mouth made Henrik want to roll his eyes, "Students, the rival school has arrived. I'm aware a number of you are playing for us, you wouldn't want to be late. As for the rest of you, remember to show school spirit!" Yeah, Henrik didn't like him.

        As the wolves departed the gym, Henrik was the last to leave only to be halted by the fellow, "Not you, young man." Henrik tilted his head back waiting to see what was coming. The older man observed the tribrid for a while, trying to read him or see if he had forgotten one of the students. He also remained silent during his observation, waiting for Henrik to speak first. But the thing about Henrik was that he often would actively do the opposite of what was expected of him. He quite enjoyed it. Finally, he decided to ask, "Who are you? You're not one of my students."

        "I'm surprised you noticed, considering the lack of attention the wolves get if the moon isn't full," Henrik said, still avoiding the direct question.

        "Then you're a wolf, I assume?" He asked, starting to pace around the boy like he was accusing him of something, "Of the Crescent Wolf Pack all the way from New Orleans." He said, making it obvious he was listening in on Henrik's meeting with the wolves.

        Henrik narrowed his eyes at how tense the man's tone was, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

        The man turned to face Henrik once more, "You still haven't told me your name."

        He paused before finally answering, "Henrik Mikaelson."

        The man's eyes slightly widened, you could barely catch it. And then he offered his hand to shake, "Ah, you must be the son of the infamous Klaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid." Suddenly any detest that the man might've had for him turned to intrigue.

        "And of Hayley Marshall," He spoke of the other half of his gene pool that people often forgot, "Queen of the wolves to the largest pack ever known."

        "Yes, yes," But it was clear he was only interested in his father's side.

        "And you are?"

        He bowed slightly and a bit dramatically for Henrik's taste. He reminded the tribrid of a showman. "Professor Vardemus, Headmaster of this fine institution." He introduced himself, "If I may, what exactly are you doing here? Planning to enroll?"

        "God no," Henrik reacted fast with a chuckle before honing in his more humble side, "I left the school a few years ago." He did his best to summon the energy of his uncle, trying to throw on that dignified charm that Elijah exuded. "I'm just here to see how it's changed. Nostalgia. You understand."

        "Yes, of course." Vardemus nodded, and if he didn't believe Henrik he didn't show it or say it, "Well, then, I must see to my students and their competition. American football, what a quaint game! I do hope you stick around, young man. Having a student of your caliber would be a great asset."

        Henrik once more narrowed his eyes as the headmaster left the room. Vardemus had no real idea what Henrik could do, was it just his familial status that he was complimenting? Vardemus looked at him with what he could only describe as greed. He wouldn't be surprised but was most certainly cautious.

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        Lizzie, dressed and prepared to finally participate in the game that day, met her twin seeking refreshments in their game rest section of the school. She was more than ready to begin her list of grievances with a certain someone who was overstaying his welcome. "What the hell is Henrik Mikaelson still doing here? I thought he would have left by now." She complained.

        Instead of trying to get Lizzie to focus on the game ahead, Josie responded to her, sometimes it was better to address the problem first, "Maybe he decided to stick around, or even come back." She was well aware that until Henrik left, he'd be all that occupied Lizzie's mind for the rest of the day.

        "Isn't there something illegal about this? Can't we remove him from the premises or anything?" But just as she finished, the phrase 'speak of the devil' came true as Henrik turned up joining the girls.

        "Ladies," He nodded at them both politely.

        "Hi, Henrik, enjoying yourself?" Josie, meanwhile, tried to make him feel welcome and avoid any issues.

        "I am, I heard you're having a game today against the humans in town."

        "Yep, so unless you're registered at either school you're kind of trespassing so—" But before she could elaborate, Lizzie was cut off immediately.

        "You do realize that the yearly contributions my family makes are more than half of what the parents here pay for their kids to attend this school?" His words caused them to be quiet, "It's why you're able to take on so many orphaned or fostered kids with no financial aid. The school takes care of it all, but who takes care of the school?" The girls remained quiet, Lizzie was turning red and was a second away from having steam coming out of her ears while poor Josie stood in between them awkwardly but watching them back and forth like a tennis match from hell. "I think I'll stick around for the game today, it should be fun." He smiled menacingly at Lizzie before giving a neutral nod to the both of them as he walked away.

        It only took until they were sure he was out of sight for Lizzie to ask her sister, "Can you teach me that fire spell you did on Penelope last year?"

        "Lizzie, we are not setting his hair on fire!" Josie exclaimed.

        "Oh, so you can torch your ex, but I can't set fire to a guy who's been the bane of my existence since the seventh grade?" She asked incredulously.

        "Lizzie, you are not setting his hair on fire."

        "I was actually thinking his whole body, but his hair will do for now. But seriously, I cannot believe I have to deal with him again," She growled, "Ugh, that entire family is poison."

        "You've never even met his family, come on." She scolded her sister, knowing she took it a step too far.

        The blonde opened her mouth to respond instantly before closing it again, "Right, that's true." Lizzie quieted down, but she could feel it in the back of her head. Something was missing. She definitely had something to say but it was just blank. And the minute she tried to find it, it just kept slipping.

        Before either of them could speak first, Landon appeared, a bit sweaty from running around, "Hey, you know that guy from earlier, Henrik? What do you know about his magic?" He panted.

        Josie was the one to answer, though a bit confused about the question, "Um, I know that he comes from a seriously old and dangerous line of witches. His grandmother created vampires." She added.

        Landon gave a quick wide-eyed reaction before nodding and asking, "MG mentioned he was part werewolf, do you think he'd know anything about what happened to Raf? You know, like trying to shift back to human without a full moon?"

        Lizzie was quick to intervene, "Oh no, it will be a cold day in hell when someone from this school asks Henrik Mikaelson for help."

        "Really? Not even if he could be the key to helping Raf back to human?" Landon had gotten used to taking a stance against Lizzie's constant bulldozing over people, especially when it involved his brother and best friend.

        "If we couldn't figure it out, what makes you think he could?" In Lizzie's defense, she didn't exactly know just how far Henrik's knowledge of wolves went. She didn't even know he accessed his werewolf side or what pack he came from. Lizzie made a point to never really learn about him so at the time it seemed normal for her arrogance to show. Not that she'd ever admit that, of course.

        "Since no one here could figure it out, doesn't it stand to reason to try and find someone that might?"

        "Listen to me, Muppet Head, even if he did have a way to turn Raf back it would mean that you'd owe him. And that's not a road you want to go down on."

        "It's either that or Raf stays a wolf for the rest of his life." He rebuffed.

        When she couldn't make a decent argument against it, she stayed quiet.

        "That's it, I'm asking him," Landon decided, turning around to leave.

        "Have fun being indebted to the spawn of Satan!" The blonde shouted as he left.

        Meanwhile, Josie responded in a quieter but chiding voice, "Lizzie, you should really quit those jokes while he's visiting."

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        Henrik had no actual intention of sticking around to watch some stupid game played by teenagers from his least favorite town in the world. He just said so because he knew it would irritate Lizzie, and he'd heard what she'd been calling him all day so, why not do the same to her? By the time all the players and students were on the field, he was in the woods, using it as a detour so he wouldn't run into any more familiar faces by the entrance. He heard that Landon Kirby would be playing too so he knew he couldn't get an audience with him just yet. He thought about coming back later that night.

        What he wasn't expecting to find in those woods was a large black fully shifted werewolf. He was especially confused, he knew almost all of the Crescents back home, Hope too, and none of them were attending this school. Not since the whole Henry disaster. Even if they had joined in the past two years, Hope would've told him. It's not exactly something you forget to mention when a fellow wolf from your pack back home attends the same boarding school as you.

        So this wolf must have transformed another way, but before he could get another chance to approach him, a loud howl shook throughout the trees. The howling came from another werewolf, but he was different. He had almost been— mutated. Experimented on. He had twice as many fangs, his fur was pale brown and bloody with arrows in his back and patches of skin from where his fur was pulled out. It was like someone kept shaving him in different places. His left back leg was inflamed and swollen. There were three long claw marks where his right eye should have been. The eye he did have, was heavily dilated— the glowing amber iris of every werewolf could barely be seen, it made the eye look entirely black and glassy. Henrik couldn't imagine the kind of pain he must have been in. How he could even stand on four legs, how he wasn't howling in pain, instead he just kept snarling. He didn't look like a werewolf, he looked like a monster.

        Henrik hated himself for comparing him to that hours later. He didn't get much of a chance to try to talk to him as the patch wolf rushed towards the black wolf, with Henrik throwing himself in between as the other one got away.

        The patch wolf didn't care who was under his jaws as he bit and scratched at Henrik— who wasted no time in growing out his own claws and scratching back. Henrik pushed himself backward, landing on his feet in a crouching position. He shrugged off his jacket, shoes, and jeans as fast as he could, Patchy didn't exactly give him time and ran back at him. On instinct, Henrik pushed his bones apart, letting his pale grey fur cover his body, his shirt ripped apart with its pieces landing on the ground along with whatever he hadn't removed. Soon his fangs took over his teeth, he had paws where his hands should be, and his spine snapped into place forcing him on four legs, and his grayish-white fur was cascading and growing throughout his body. His Aunt Keelin said that he and his sister were identical when shifted as wolves, it made Henrik smile when he learned that. Fraternal as human, identical as wolves.

        His vision was much better now and he could feel the saliva dripping down, Henrik snarled at the patch wolf, edging him out and standing his ground. But the patchy wolf was just as— if not more— vicious as the lighter one.

        Their fight lasted a while, usually, Henrik held his own as a wolf quite well. He was quick, strong, and healed faster than other werewolves. But this wasn't any other werewolf. Patchy was already in pain, already wounded, with a bad leg, and he still fought like he had been given a hundred shots of adrenaline. Deep in his mind, Henrik knew he didn't want to kill him. He knew none of this was natural, something, someone did this to him. Wolves don't just devolve into beasts. But Henrik was also a wolf, and at that moment the animal instinct to protect himself won against everything. They were still fighting, Patchy had thrown him seven or eight feet away, with a tree breaking his momentum and he landed on the forest floor with a thud. When Patchy slowly approached him for the kill, Henrik was too fast for him, he went under the large wolf and extended his jaw to bite down on his bad leg. The patch wolf yelped, throwing his snout forward in an attempt to lick and soothe his injured leg or to bite Henrik's snout off, either way— that gave Henrik the chance to bite forward into their neck and then lunge backward, ripping away at the throat and finally ending the confrontation.

        When he bit into Patchy's neck, it burned him, there had been wolfsbane inside of his system. Yet another part of the mystery. There were other things in his blood system and Henrik consumed some of it when he ripped his throat out. He was exhausted and panting for hours, refusing to leave and still in shock from the encounter. Laying down next to the dead wolf, he fell unconscious and didn't wake until nighttime.

        He remembered waking up in his human body, his chin and most of his chest covered in blood. It made him look like a vampire.

        Patchy was lying a few feet next to him, his one good eye was glassy and empty. The rest of him was cold and deflated, without the snarling and growling Henrik could see he had been heavily starved, his ribs were scarily visible. What most unnerved him, however, was that he didn't shift back into his human form when he died. He was still a wolf.

        He remembered Mom's stories about wolves that embraced their animal side but even then, they still went back to human when they died. The only difference was some took longer than others. There was never any reason to it but a few had some theories, some say the bigger the wolf bloodline the longer it takes. Others say it depends on how long they had been a triggered wolf. But some said it depended on how much was left of their human side.

        Maybe there was nothing left to come back to.

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        He couldn't burn the remains of the wolf, they'd find the charred body eventually so instead he had borrowed a shovel from the school maintenance shed. The makeshift grave was filled back up, a plot of darker soil was the only indicator of what happened.

        He knew he couldn't call anyone from the school, they'd just think he snapped and killed some random regular wolf. If they believed him that the wolf attacked first and still saw how savagely Henrik had killed him, they would treat him like a murderer for the rest of his stay here. That wouldn't be of any help to his investigation and besides— who wants to be treated that way?

        After digging and refilling the grave, he was just stuck there. He didn't— or maybe couldn't leave. His shirt was ripped to shreds but his jacket luckily survived, as did his pants. So there he was, sitting against a large tree, his chin, neck, and chest had dried blood from where he bit the wolf. His dark jacket and jeans were on but still plenty dirty, along with his usual messy Chuck Taylors. Henrik's eyes were burning from withholding tears and all he could do was stare at the unmarked grave.

        Henrik didn't know what he was doing.

        Usually, he'd always say that, it always made him chuckle. But the truth was that he always knew what he was doing— most of the time. He's pretty sure he messed up this time though. He could have asked Freya to come with him. He could've stopped Elijah and told him to not leave. But instead, now he was here, in Mystic Falls surrounded by people who looked at him with fear instead of love. He thought it wouldn't matter to him. He didn't care about them, about how they saw him, he never did. But it felt different this time. He was alone.

        He and Hope had each other to get through the school year.

        Then after Mom and Dad, Henrik had Elijah.

        But here, here there was no one. Is this how she felt? She didn't have a single ally, a friend who couldn't possibly sympathize because her name scared them before she could say another word.

        He could've asked for one of them to join him when he came back. He didn't have to be here alone, he knew that. But he also kept thinking to himself that he had to do it. Hope got lost alone. Maybe he could find her the same way. But all he wanted to do was be back home in the family compound and hug his aunts and his cousin, listen to his uncle play the piano, and talk with his sister.

        He hasn't killed anyone since London. The only person he's ever killed and now one day in Mystic Falls the number doubled. It'd be two years, he didn't think he'd get so emotional so quickly. He still didn't let himself cry. He told himself that earlier he had planned to come back to talk to Landon again, he had a plan, and he had to keep to it. But not like this. He had to clean himself up, he couldn't look like he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. He had to play scary Henrik Mikaelson. And Henrik Mikaelson doesn't cry, at least not here, not in Mystic Falls.

        He would cry when he found his sister.

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        Landon didn't really want to think about the past couple of hours. Sure, it was exciting, playing a game of football and actually winning. Until his girlfriend magically broke the rival team's star quarterback's arm in two. It seemed to put a damper on things, he thought to himself sarcastically. He never really pictured Josie being competitive, or malicious even. Those traits were more reserved for her other half, Lizzie. So, with the big incident, the game was cut short and they rushed Ethan to the hospital.

        He could tell Josie felt guilty, and he hoped this wouldn't happen again. It was one of the few times he was scared on school grounds. The monsters last year were one thing, getting beaten up by Jed— just another bully really, but seeing magic used in such a quick, violent, and spiteful way scared him as to what he and his fellow students were capable of. He was reminded that they were just another breed of monsters.

        He was stuck there, sitting on the steps that joined the foyer and the central living room. Josie had just left, telling him again that they'll be fine. She was good at taking care of people and she would take care of him and she promised that whatever was happening with Malivore, they would take it on together. And then she left to go to bed, but he just stayed there in the dark and silence. Something was missing from all this, something that he couldn't quite grasp, and—

        "Hello, Landon."

        He spun around and practically fell off the steps before standing up in defense. He was met with the same tall pale boy with dark hair that curled lightly at the ends. The one he'd been looking for the entire day. He stood with his shoulders and hands back, his head held high. He looked down at him as though he were trying to read his mind, read his entire life story and Landon wondered for a second if he could do that. He didn't say a word as he calmed from the jump scare and watched him like he watched Landon.

        "Nice to see you again." He said, "I think we should talk."

        Landon was quick to respond, "You're Henrik Mikaelson."

        Henrik only raised his eyebrows slightly in intrigue, and if he was at all surprised that Landon knew his name he didn't let it show. "You've heard of me." He let out a wicked grin. "Fantastic."

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i hope ya'll notice henrik (unknowingly) quoted his dad right there, love that for him

- henrik is also in desperate need of a hug, my poor buddy

writing Lizzie and Henrik bickering is not only the most fun but also probably the easiest to write, they practically write themselves

- also, no, Josie wasn't talking in a jealous way when Landon mentioned the milkshake, i don't want to demonize Josie, she was mainly speaking from a surprise stance bc tbh it is weird that Landon shared a milkshake with Henrik of all people, it's just weird

and last but not least, a huge thank you to kaci for not only giving me the idea of the wolves running around the grounds and not being kept up in the dungeons as Henrik talked about, but also for the quote i used in the beginning, it comes from her Heartlines story and it is said by none other than Klaus Mikaelson. i highly recommend you read it and her other stories :)

no mundanes allowed

- polaroized