"No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow." – Euripides

The smell of smoke still lingered on Imogen's ash covered clothing as she walked down the empty street, an acidic aftertaste in her mouth that left her wanting to wash her mouth out with bleach. The only thing on her mind as she headed towards her apartment building from the parking lot where she left her car was, 'man, I really want a shower'.

The high heels she had worn all day dangled carelessly from her fingers, her arm swinging slightly by her side and she hummed absently to herself with a small smile on her lips. For some people the events that had taken place at the Mikaelson Plantation would send them into a comatose state or cause them to sit on the shower floor rocking back and forth as they clutched their knees to their chest. But Imogen wasn't most people and being caught in an inferno wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

The full moon had nearly faded from the black canvas above as she tilted her head back to look at the stars with a small smile on her lips. Imogen had always believed that the night time was the perfect metaphor of life: stars can't shine without darkness.

It were those words that she clung to like a security blanket because it feed into her subconscious desire to have hope that everything happened for a reason, that all the pain and suffering she had gone through was for a purpose. She liked to believe it was, she had to believe it was.

Her footsteps were practically silent on the cold asphalt beneath her feet, making it easy for her to detect the approach of footfalls. A feeling of dread swept through her as she stopped walking besides a sedan that was parked on the side of the road and she dropped her shoes to the ground with an audible thud as she looked around the surrounding area.

"Hello, Imogen." a familiar voice greeted her almost friendly from behind her and a small smile spread across her lips in realisation as she slowly turned around to face the reality in front of her.

"Hello, Celeste." Imogen greeted the ancient witch with a respectful nod because while she didn't agree with the witch's perpetual overtaking a fellow witch's body for her own survival, it was certainly an impressive show of magical skill. "I would say it's a pleasure, but I don't like to lie straight to someone's face."

A pleasant smile spread across Celeste's lips, amused by the nerve of the younger witch and she tilted her head to the side in consideration as her gaze raked over every inch of Imogen's body. There was a hint of jealousy burning in her eyes as she took in the appearance of Elijah's newest obsession. In so many ways Imogen was exactly Elijah's type: a mischievous smile, eyes burning bright with intelligence, a heart full of compassion.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Celeste asked curiously with an eyebrow quirked as she slowly started to circle around the younger witch, her lips upturned in mild amusement.

"I'm guessing it's not to chat about the weather." Imogen replied drily as she carefully watched every moment the other woman made, trying to keep her expression impassive so that Celeste couldn't see the fear warring away inside of her.

A small chuckled escaped Celeste's lips as she ducked her head slightly before lifting her gaze to meet Imogen's blue eyes and she smirked slightly as she tilted her head to the side, "No. No, I'm not here for anything so mundane."

A foreboding silence followed her words as the two witches stared at each other in a battle of willpower, neither one of them wanting to be the first one to break. They were experiencing the calm before the storm, the stillness that came before a hurricane swept through and destroyed everything that dared stand in its path.

"You might not believe me, but this is for the best, Imogen. I'm doing you a favour." Celeste informed the younger witch in an almost sympathetic tone of voice and her expression fell into one of pity, like she really believed that she was doing what was best for Imogen. "The Mikaelson family is toxic. They poison everything they touch. Trust me."

"I know what happened to you. Elijah showed me his memory of the day he found your body. He told me about what Klaus did to you." Imogen replied easily with a slight edge in her voice as she turned her head to look at the older witch, her hands clenched at her sides as her nails digging into the palms to remind herself that she wasn't having a nightmare.

"You know nothing!" the other witch snapped angrily as her eyes flashed with rage and she took a step forward threateningly, fury causing her magic to run rampant as the wind blew wildly around them. Imogen tensed instinctively as her brunette hair whipped all over the place in the breeze but she kept her gaze locked on the livid woman in front of her and internally started pulling at the thread of magic in her stomach in cause she needed to defend herself.

Celeste took a deep breath to calm herself as the wind slowly died down to a soft breeze and she offered the other witch a small smile in apology as she tilted her head to the side. "Sorry. Apparently, this host body has control issues that have passed on to me."

"Don't you understand? I died because of Klaus. And even after all his vindictive lies about witches led to my death, Elijah stood by him. All because of their vow—'always and forever.'" She mocked spitefully as her face twisted up into a bitter scowl and her eyes darkened with loathing as she glared at something Imogen couldn't see. Celeste blinked back into reality as she turned her attention to the witch in front of her and offered her a tight smile as she took a deliberate step closer. "I'm here to teach the Originals the error of their ways. I'll have my revenge. Starting with Klaus. He is gonna know pain and torment like he's never felt before. And poor, pathetic Rebekah. She's about to find herself in quite the predicament. And Elijah? I'm going to cure him of his greatest flaw-- this absurd devotion to his lunatic family. He's going to live with the knowledge that there's nothing he could do to save his dastardly siblings."

"You think that's his greatest flaw?" Imogen asked sceptically in disbelief with a frown on her lips, her forehead furrowed in confusion and she scoffed slightly as she shook her head in denial. "That's one of the things I love most about him. That devotion to his family, it gives me hope for the world. That one person could care with the same levelled of dedication through several lifetimes. It's inspirational."

Celeste stared at the younger witch contemplatively, her eyes narrowed with a blank expression on her face and a slow smile spread across her lips as she pointed a finger at Imogen, "I can see why Elijah likes you. But unfortunately, that just makes you the perfect instrument in order to teach Elijah his next lesson."

"What lesson might that be?"

"Poor girl. You have no idea how dangerous it is to be loved by him. I'm going to save you the pain, the heartache. And at the same time, I'm going show the Originals the dangers of loving someone mortal." Celeste revealed in a menacing tone with a frightening smirk on her lips and she shrugged her shoulders like there was nothing that could be done about the situation.

"You're going to kill me." Imogen stated mildly without any emotion in her voice, not fear or sadness or even defeat. There was only acceptance. It wasn't like she hadn't seen this coming the moment Celeste had shown herself. It wasn't like she wasn't prepared for something like this to happen.

"I'm sorry it came to this. I do like you, Imogen Claire. I wish it could be different." Celeste told the younger witch in a sorrowful voice, looking like she was genuinely regretful of what was going to take place but determined to follow through on her plan.

Fury coursed through Imogen's veins, her gaze hardening in resolve as she clenched her hands into fists at her sides and she gritted her teeth as she looked down at the asphalted ground beneath her feet. Imogen was so tired of people taking advantage of her, of people trying to control her. She had lived her whole life in constant fear of other people. Every time she thought she was free to make her own choices, someone new was there to take over the reins.

"No." the Claire witch whispered to herself angrily as her finger flexed uncontrollably and she snapped her head up to glare at the older witch in front of her. "No! I won't let some manipulative bitch, consumed by the need for revenge make this decision for me. Not when I've had every decision made for me, or forced out of me. My death, my rules."

With a strangled cry, she slammed her elbow back into the window of the sedan behind her and the glass shattered onto the ground beneath her, the shards cutting the skin of her bare feet as it rained down around her. Celeste gasped in surprise at the sudden movement, her eyes widened as her lips parted in shock and Imogen ignored the pain of the fresh wounds as she slowly crouched down to the ground. Her fingers curled tightly around one of the larger shards of glass, paying no attention to the stinging agony it caused when it broke the skin and scarlet red blood slowly flowed from the wound until it coated the clear glass.

Imogen stood up straight as she held her head high and she took a deep breath as she licked her dry lips anxiously, tasting the lingering smoke. "No one is going to make my feel weak anymore. No one is going to hold that kind of power over me."

"What are you – "Celeste started to ask in confusion but was cut off when Imogen raised the glass to her jugular threateningly and the younger witch let out a choked gasp as she pierced her carotid artery.

Blood trickled out the corner of Imogen's lips as she coughed weakly and she stumbled back against the car behind her when a wave of dizziness washed over her. The shard of glass in her throat dropped to the ground with a small thud and her hands feebly pressed down on the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The strength in her legs faded as she slowly slid down the side of the car until she was sitting on the ground, surrounded by fragments of glass. Her fingers were coated in sticky red liquid as her head lolled to the side against the cold metal of the car and her mind felt cloudy like she was trying to see through thick mist. Imogen could vaguely hear footsteps retreating but it was getting harder to focus when all she wanted to do was sleep and her hands fell weakly onto her lap as her eyes fluttered closed.

'Sorry, Davina. I'll see you soon,' Imogen thought to herself in exhaustion before the darkness completely overtook her and she was completely lost to the oblivion that was nothingness.