The inexplicable happened… Miranda ran off… Goddammit… How could someone so irresponsible just leave town and abandon her children? When Qetsiyah Said that I alter fate, I never imagined it would turn out like this.
Jenna's parents are elderly and in no condition to look after the kids, so they've stayed here.
"Uncle Nik, come here—Uncle Nik, over here!" Seriously… on top of dealing with my own children, who were already quite a handful as it was…
About a month later…
"Uncle Nik… doesn't Mommy love us anymore?" Little Elena sat down beside me as I sat on the couch watching the local news. "Did she leave Jeremy and me forever?"
I looked down at her and thought—what on earth do I even say? Their mother abandoned them both. I understand that those without memory bear no emotional responsibility… but honestly? This strikes something deep—something the old Niklaus always suffered through.
Terrible parents.
I turned to her and stroked her head—not as a reincarnated soul trapped in a thousand-year-old vampire's body. No. Just as a responsible adult.
"Even if she doesn't want you…" I began, smiling gently at her, "…Jenna and I are here for you. Both of us."
"You won't leave too?" Elena asked, biting her lip, voice trembling.
"Of course not," I answered, brushing her hair back. "Now go be the little rascal you are and play with your brother. I'll finish feeding Harry and Iris, and then you can play with them, okay?"
"Okay!" She brightened immediately and darted off to the bedroom where Jeremy was.
I could hear Jenna breathing from the other side of the room—she'd been hiding, so I decided to let her come forward on her own.
"Thank you, Nik." She stepped out from behind the support beam. "You have no idea how much what you're doing means to me."
I simply gave a soft shrug.
"You're raising my children," I replied, spooning another mouthful of soft food toward Harry and Iris, then meeting her eyes. "So it's only fair I help raise your newly orphaned niece and nephew."
"Thank you truly, Nik." She kissed my cheek and went to check on Elena.
I kept feeding my own pair—though the problem is these two eat so much. They cry for food constantly; it's like I'm fattening up livestock.
That same night…
I walked through the warehouse, and every vampire under my compulsion stepped back in unison.
I sat in a chair before a bed. Amara lay there exactly as Qetsiyah had left her—barbed wire still wrapped around her. I don't know if she's like Silas, and I'm not taking chances—not in this world where everyone's been amped up far beyond the show. Silas literally fooled Lucifer into an illusion before I ended him and gave his soul to Qetsiyah. Amara isn't getting free of that wire anytime soon.
"Can you speak?" I asked. She looked at me without turning her head—only her eyes shifted, careful not to graze the barbs.
"..." She just stared, until a sigh escaped her, wincing as the wire cut into her with every breath. "What kind of torturer are you? You don't seem like the sadists that witch usually sends to break me."
Just hearing her speak told me everything—Qetsiyah hadn't only broken her body; she'd stripped away her dignity.
I sighed. Best not to dwell on it.
"I'm no torturer," I said, crossing my legs, feeling no urge to be cruel or mocking—this woman was wretched. "Qetsiyah gave you to me as payment. I killed Silas and delivered his soul to her."
I waited for a reaction—only to hear a bitter laugh that dissolved into a gasp of pain.
"I see…" Her voice was flat, lifeless. "At least she has a new toy. Maybe she'll finally leave me alone."
"You aren't sad your love is gone?" I asked, confused.
"That was lifetimes ago," she said, bitterness surfacing beneath the pain. "I was young and foolish. He was reckless—cheating on that madwoman… and look where it got us. Anyway… if this is torture… giving me hope… you're cruel. If it isn't… fine. Do whatever you want. You can't be worse than her and the monsters she sends."
She was truly broken—no pleas, no begging, no fight left. In a way, it felt more real than anything in the show. How do you remain whole after being tortured, feeling the deaths of thousands? This Amara isn't the Anchor to the Other Side… and perhaps that would've been kinder.
"I plan to use you as a sacrifice," I told her, deciding to be blunt. "To free my wolf half. Then I'll use your blood to create hybrids—for all eternity. You'll be nothing more than a blood bag."
"I see…" No emotion. "Better than the kindest of that witch's torturers."
I stepped closer, brushing against the wire—and the pain was blinding. It hit so hard I nearly dropped to my knees, but I forced my mind to steady.
"Looks like this magic is real," I breathed. "I'll find a witch to blunt the curse's effect… but I'm not letting you go."
I made that perfectly clear. She looked at me strangely—suspicion… and something that almost looked like hope?
"You really aren't one of hers?" Her voice wavered. "You act like you're one of the good ones… are we going to play games?"
Flawed though it was—was that… a tease? She was challenging me? Oh, so this little kitten still has a lion inside.
"I'm not playing mind games," I said, stepping back. "I just don't like causing pain to someone who reminds me of people I've come to care about."
A few days later…
"You meant it…" Amara panted, still tangled in wire, wincing. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore."
She lifted her head, that strange gaze back—shimmering with just a little more hope.
"I don't know if you're truly different," she whispered, voice cracking. "Even if you destroy me later… thank you. For letting me feel something other than agony, just for a moment."
The witch hadn't removed the curse—only softened it. Alyssa sent her; said she had talent despite being a "bad blood." And she was right. She left right after—off to the house I rented for her. She'll be my new witch in this city. Alyssa… something—doesn't matter. Soon I'll have everything I need to be rid of this damnable curse.