[Blood Diary Entry – Rebekah Mikaelson]
We walked side by side, making our way through the streets of Chicago.
There was some small banter, some teasing—mostly on that uncomfortable topic, because I don't think Isolde is going to let that go anytime soon.
Amidst laughter and some playful jabs, we made our way to the familiar spot, where I spent time with my brother and Stefan.
Gloria's.
I am honestly quite surprised it still stands after all this time.
There was a small queue in front of the door. It was late at night, but there were still people out and about, so it wasn't all that surprising to see a line in front of a bar.
Though I guessed that amongst these seemingly normal people, there were some supernatural oddballs.
But Gloria's was always known for being a neutral zone, so as long as you're not too stupid, you don't need to keep much of a guard inside. Unless you had troubles with the owner, that is…
I made my way to the door, ignoring the line entirely. I was about to enter when a big hand stopped me in my tracks.
My eyes narrowed. "Remove your hand."
The security guard looked at me unimpressed. "If you want in, you go wait in line."
"Is that so? And you presume to stop me?"
The bystanders who were waiting in line all looked irritated, and some even scoffed, but they all deigned to let the security deal with the situation.
The big man didn't budge. "It's my job to keep the likes of you out." He said dismissively,
I smiled dangerously in sheer anger at the tone he used. "Hoh? Why don't you do me a favor then…" He raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you go inside and tell the host a Mikaelson is waiting at the door and that you, little ant, tried to stop me."
In the waiting queue, I saw some people go stiff, while others started shivering. My family is quite famous in the supernatural world after all.
He gritted his teeth and spoke in irritation. "Look here, lady, I haven't heard of any Mikaelson before. So, why don't you do yourself a favor and go away before I plant your face in the sidewalk? Pretty girl or not."
The ones who knew who I was became downright frightened and decided to leave before things escalated.
The guard noticed this and became somewhat alert.
My smile grew more vicious. "Do as I say."
He eyed me with uncertainty before he turned back and entered the bar.
Isolde gave me a dry look. "Couldn't you have just compelled him? Why all this drama? Seriously, Rebekah…"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Gloria feeds her staff with vervain."
Isolde looked at me, unimpressed. "And you're telling me you can't compel someone who drank vervain?"
I smiled maliciously and cockily. "I can."
"So why?"
"Because I like the drama, and because I was in a bad mood."
"And what does being in a bad mood have to do with any of this scene you caused?"
"Isolde… Tell me, what do you think is going to happen to an incompetent security guard that works in a supernatural bar, when he not only failed to recognize an Original Vampire, but also angered that same vampire?"
Isolde's eyes widened. "He is going to die…"
"Indeed."
"Why?"
"Because I was in a bad mood."
"And that was enough for you to condemn someone to death?"
"If he hit another vampire's nerve on another night, someone else would've torn his head off instead of me setting him up. And that would have been so much worse." I noticed the look she gave me and I was none too happy about it. "Isolde, this world is a cruel one; if you don't give some reminders for people not to mess with you from time to time, they get bold."
"But that man was innocent!"
"Was he?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you really think an innocent man would've been assigned to doorkeeping in a bar filled with supernatural entities? Who are most remarkably prone to fits of anger?"
"Uhm…"
"That man was disposable trash, Isolde. I might have done the world a service. He had an unpleasant smell to him, so I am quite sure that whatever is coming to him will be absolutely deserved."
"If you say so…"
"Believe me, Isolde, this is much better than the alternative."
"The alternative?"
"More people would have died, and let's leave it at that."
"I just find it hard to understand how casually you treat others' lives."
"Your son is also like that, you know?"
"Hm?"
"While I believe he has some sort of code of not killing innocents, I don't think he wouldn't kill anyone if that meant keeping his family safe. Heck, he would probably do it if it benefited us somehow."
"My son isn't like that!"
"Really?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I- I don't actually know…" And I watched as that uncertainty crushed her.
"No need to feel bitter about this," I said, and she looked me in the eyes, "it is as it needs to be."
"How so?" She asked.
"Your son is strong. And that sort of strength breeds conflict. Unless people fear and respect that strength, there would be no end to some random nobodies seeking to prove themselves by antagonizing him. And then, who do you think these people would target?"
"Me…"
"Exactly! And if that does happen, god save us, because your son; our overprotective Darian," her eyes narrowed as I referred to Darian as 'our', "will cause mass genocide in his anger."
She sighed, exasperated, realizing the truth in my words.
"I still don't like it…"
"You don't need to like it. You just need to understand." I said as I heard the commotion inside and the hurried steps coming our way. "If your son were any less remarkable, I could bear that weight for him, but as strong as he is… Well, that power comes with its share of burden. The best you can do is never treat your son as a monster—because if you do… Well… I'll just say that Niklaus wasn't always the way he is now."
"I would never do that to my son!"
"I know," melancholy washed over me, "I just wish our mother were more like you… Things could have been different then…"
"Rebekah-" Isolde's words were interrupted as the doors burst open.
From inside came a beautiful woman with chocolate skin and blonde dyed hair. She had a mature charm that accompanied her wherever she went.
"Rebekah," I heard her magnetic and soothing voice, "a pleasure to see you again, after all these years!"