Dear Zoe...or Kaitlyn...or Angela. To my little girl. Your dad just asked if this was a love letter. I guess it kind of is. I never got to know my mother. I have no idea what she must have thought when she carried me.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the empty hallways of St Anne's Church, not the first in its long and unpleasant history.

Multiple footsteps thundered down the main aisle of the church as a group of witches led by Genevieve dragged Hayley forward by the arms, all of them struggling to keep hold of her as she thrashed violently in an attempt to extract herself from their grip. The werewolf screamed in fright in the hopes that someone outside would hear her desperate cries as the witches hauled her towards the sacristy at the front of the church. Tears blurred her vision as she twisted helplessly, trying to manoeuvre enough that one of them would loosen their grip long enough for her to defend herself against them.

"Get her down on the floor!" Genevieve ordered loudly over the pregnant woman's desperate screams, plastering a blank expression on her face in an effort to mask any doubt she had about completely the task at hand.

Hayley sobbed uncontrollably as she looked around hopelessly, searching for someone or something to help her escape the captivity and she cried out loud in horror when her gaze landed on a familiar brunette's unconscious body being carried into the church by a masculine male witch. Imogen's lips were parted as though she was about to speak, although coated in dried blood from where it poured from her nose but her eyes were closed in an almost peaceful expression. She watched in horror as the man unceremoniously dropped her friend onto one of the wooden pews, her head lolling limply to the side and the man pulled out a set of metal handcuffs as he held her wrists together with one hand. He threaded the handcuffs through the arm of the pew closest to the aisle and clipped her wrists into the metal loops, cuffing her to the pew so she wouldn't be able to move when she woke up.

"We should take them to the City of the Dead." Monique argued in a firm tone as she gripped Genevieve's arm to stop her from following the others, her dark unwavering eyes piercing into the redhead like daggers but Genevieve matched her glare with one of her own as she ripped her arm free.

"We won't make it, the baby is coming now."

"No! It's too soon!" Hayley shouted in terror when she overheard them speaking but she interrupted her own plea as she cried out in agony and throwing her head back against the sacristy steps as a sharp pain tore through her stomach.

"Apparently not." Genevieve countered softly as she went to take a step forward while shaking her head in protest but Monique shot her hand out to grab her arm, holding her in place with a menacing glare.

The younger witch narrowed her eyes as she tightened her grip until the pressure with enough to cause a bruise and her eyes darkened with irritation as she spat out, "The plan was to induce her when the sacrifice was ready!"

"I had to subdue her, and the trauma caused a placental abruption. So, the baby is coming, and we'll just have to adapt." Genevieve snapped back at her venomously as she ripped her arm from the younger girls grasp, narrowing her eyes warningly and pursing her lips to stop herself from verbally reminding the girl that she was the elder, she was the one who spoke to the ancestors, she was the one with superiority.

Hayley ignored the pain rippling through her stomach as she tried to break free of the hands holding her down, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried out helplessly and she struggled relentlessly as she screamed at the top of her lungs, "LET ME GO!"

"You need to be calm, Hayley." the redheaded witch urged her soothingly as she recalled her nurse training from a previous life, slowly walking towards the werewolf and kneeling down next to her prone form with a gentle smile.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the brunette asked her in a desperate whisper as she frantically grabbed hold of the witch's hand, looking at her pleadingly, begging for an answer that she knew wouldn't come. The smile slid from Genevieve's lips as she looked into her hopeless hazel eyes, as she watched her lower lip tremble inconsolably and she tried to ignore the guilt that was forming in her stomach as she hesitated to answer the plea because she was positive that her answer wasn't anywhere near satisfactory.

Monique narrowed her eyes suspiciously when Genevieve failed to answer the question so she knelt down on Hayley's other side and reached out to keep her arm from flailing as she responded in an unwavering voice, "To be reborn, you must sacrifice."

"What does that mean, you psychotic little BITCH?" Hayley snapped harshly with renewed anger as she roughly shoved the younger girl away from her as though her touch was toxic, her lips curling into a scowl as she glared heatedly in her direction.

"The ancestors demand an offering in exchange for power. You and your child will be a fine offering."

"No! NO! You will not take my baby, I will kill ALL OF YOU!"

"No, you won't! And neither will Klaus, or Elijah! When your baby is born, you will offer her up to those who came before us."

The pain in her stomach caused her to cry out loud as she shook her head rapidly in denial, her choked sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent church as she struggled against the witches' restraints. She tried to pull her arms out of her hold but they were stronger than her in her current state and she mumbled 'no' under her breath continuously, the word barely audible over her cries of desperation and pain.

"I'm sorry, Hayley, but this is the way it had to be." Genevieve apologized sincerely as she pressed down on her shoulder to keep her in place, swallowing roughly as she steeled her nerves for what was going to come.

"No! NO! NO! AAH! AAH!" Hayley screamed out loud until her lungs were burning with the need for oxygen, her throat aching and raw as she kicked her legs out in an effort to hit anyone that got close enough. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the exertion as another almost crippling wave of pain hit her stomach and she screamed out loud as she arched her back slightly off of the ground. She felt someone grab her underneath both of her arms and someone got a hold of her legs, lifting her body entire off of the ground while she was in too pain to fight them. Tears poured from her eyes as she whimpered shamelessly, squeezing her eyes closed against the pain and she felt them place her down on something hard.

Excruciating pain rippled through her abdomen and she was grateful that she had read those pregnancy books so that she wasn't completely in the dark as to what was happening, but being held captive by evil witches was definitely out of the ordinary. Sweat beaded along her hairline as she tried to break free of their hold unsuccessfully and she mumbled incoherently in protest as they pressed her shoulders down on the stone table. Her vision was blurry with tears as she screamed out in a mixture of pain and anger, causing her throat to ache until she was almost positive that it was raw.

Fury coursed through her veins when she saw Genevieve and Monique approaching her from the side and the redhead went to place a hand on her shoulder when she pushed herself up on her elbows as she spat out, "AHHHH! Let go of me, you bitch!"

She collapsed back down almost immediately from the effort it took to shout and the pain shooting through her abdomen. She cringed away from Genevieve's touch when she reached up to brush the sweat drenched tendrils of brunette hair off of her forehead and she proceeded to writhe on the tabletop, attempting to get out of their reach as she screamed out loud.

So, I thought I'd write to you, so you can know how happy I am at this very moment. How much your father and I can't wait to meet you...

The sound of the heavy doors to the church opening drew the attention of the witches, several of whom were standing guard near the still unconscious Imogen. Hayley turned her head in the direction of the door in dread, expecting to see more witches coming to join in the fun of tormenting her but she lips parted in shock when she saw Klaus striding down the aisle. She breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of him, hope bubbling inside of her for the first time since she had woken up inside the church.

There were so many reasons why the Klaus Mikaelson was a horrible person to be the father of her child, but she knew without a doubt that he would do everything in his immense power to protect their daughter. She knew enough of his past to know that he wanted nothing more than to correct the mistakes of the past, to make sure that their child never knew what it felt like to be unwanted or unloved. In that regard, they shared the same desire to see their daughter grow up in a loving and warm environment so she knew that he would utilized whatever hybrid powers that he possessed in order to protect their child, and her by default.

Dried blood coated his chin as he limped further into the room, his enraged blue eyes sweeping the gathered bodies until he made eye contact with the werewolf and she saw his expression soften momentarily before hardening with fury. She tried to sit up but Genevieve held her down by the shoulders and she turned her head briefly to glare at the witch as she shifted in an attempt to avoid her touch.

Klaus growled lowly in the back of his throat as the sight of Hayley being held captive, an animalistic sound as he hurried forward but a large brute of a man stepped in front of him and blocked the path of the aisle. The witch lifted his hands to attack but Klaus lunged forward before he could and unceremoniously tore his head from his body, dropping the decapitated head down on the ground as blood covered his hands.

Monique glowered unhappily as she stepped away from the pedestal with her emotionless eyes pinned to the hybrid and she lifted her hand as she muttered a spell under her breath. Upon realizing what the brunette was trying to accomplish the other casket girl, Abigail and Genevieve linked their hands together to strengthen their magic. They both raised their free hands in his direction as they chanted along with Monique and the three of them used their combined magic to telekinetically throw him against the wall overlooking the stone table.

Hayley tilted her head back to look at him in fear as tears spilled unapologetically down her cheeks, the pain rippling through her stomach only adding to the horror that she was experiencing and she screamed out loud as she arched her back off of the table.

And, I want to make you a promise of three things that you will have that I never did: a safe home, someone to tell you that they love you every single day, and someone to fight for you, no matter what.

Klaus roared fiercely as he struggled against the heavy pressure of the spell keeping him pinned to the wall, his eyes flashing amber before returning to their normal light blue. Rage flooded his veins as he watched hopelessly, unshed tears gathering in his eyes that threatened to spill over and each pain filled cry from Hayley was akin to being stabbed with Papa Tunde's blade.

Over the course of a thousand years he had never felt more helpless than he did right at that moment; the mother of his child was being held against her will while giving birth and he could do never more than watch and listen to her pain as she endured something he could not understand. He had suffered through the agony of having his bones snap and break before melding back together in a new form when he went through the transition into a wolf, and he knew that Hayley had experienced the same, but this...this was something even more powerful.

A scream escaped her lips as she thrashed against the hold of the witches and her frantic gaze searched him out, wanting to feel as though she wasn't alone in her plight. She had suffered most of her life alone; orphaned by her biological parents, abandoned by her foster parents, never settling in one place long enough to make loyal friends. But she wasn't alone anymore. She had people who cared about her, who wanted to help her, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid to admit that she needed someone.

Hayley sobbed uncontrollably as she met his eyes over the distance, silently begging with him to do something even though she knew that it was unlikely that he could counter the magic holding him in place.

In other words, a family. I'm not sure what the future may hold, but if for some reason I'm unable to be there for you like I so desperately want to be, there's one woman I trust to stand in my place.

Imogen hummed in the back of her throat as her eyelids fluttered open while she slowly started to regain consciousness and she lifted her head as she looked around groggily, trying to make sense of where she was because she couldn't remember falling asleep. A frown pulled at her lips as the sound of screaming echoed in her ears and her first thought was that she must have fallen asleep in front of the television while watching scary movies. She shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat she was sitting on as the screams started to sound vaguely familiar and she took a deep breath as she tried to remember the events leading up to the blackout. She groaned out in pain as she registered a throbbing in the back of her head and she tried to lift her hand to see if there was a bump that could explain her lack of memory but she found that she couldn't. Her gaze snapped down to her wrists, widening when she saw a set of metal handcuffs keeping her tied to a wooden arm and she looked around wildly when she realized that she was in a church as she immediately the interior of St Anne's church.

"What the...?" she breathed out in confusion as she looked around with a frown on her lips and her eyes widened in horror when her gaze landed on the pedestal at the front of the sacristy. Several witches were surrounding Hayley whom was being held down as she screamed in terror and Klaus being pinned to the wall overhead as he shouted in rage while he tried to overpower whatever spell was coming him in place.

A startled gasp escaped her lips as she tugged experimentally on the metal handcuffs to see if they would break, trying to remain quiet so that she wouldn't attract unwanted attention. The metal clanged together, causing her to wince and she looked up as she let out a sigh of relief when she realized the sound hadn't been heard over Hayley's screams and Klaus's shouts. She turned her attention back to her wrists as she licked her lip anxiously, tasting the rustic taste of blood on her tongue and she felt the familiar warmth of magic flowing through her veins as she mumbled under her breath, "Débloquer sans clé. Débloquer sans clé."

She breathed out in satisfaction when the handcuffs unlocked themselves as they fell to the floor and she rubbed her wrist with one hand as she carefully stood up on shaky legs, holding onto the arm of the pew to keep her balance. Anger pulsed through her veins as she glared heatedly at the backs of the witches at the front of the church, disgusted with the thought that she used to associate with their coven. She took a deep breath as she steadied herself and she stretched out her arm towards the gathering of witches as she pulled at the thread of magic that was unravelling in her stomach. Her expression hardened as she clenched her hand into a fist suddenly, causing a burly male witch freeze and then she turned her fist to the side as his neck snapped in the same direction with a sickening crack. His body unceremoniously dropped to the ground with a thud, startling the other witches as they jumped in surprise and Imogen didn't hesitate to repeat the action with a female witch standing to the side of the group.

"She's awake!" someone shouted over the commotion when they realized that their cohorts hadn't simply dropped dead of their own accord and Imogen let out a disgruntled shout as she thrust both of her arms out in front of her, twisting her fists to the side so that two more of the witches dropped dead.

Hayley snapped her head around to face the aisle as a look of relief expression across her face when she saw Imogen standing upright with her hands outstretched, a look of fury on her features as she glared heatedly. She couldn't contain the sob of happiness as she relaxed against the table beneath her, knowing that her friend would do anything in her power to protect them. Four of the witches that were holding her captive were already dead at Imogen's hands and a small smile flickered across her lips at the thought before another wave of pain rippled through her stomach, causing her to scream out loud as she lolled her head back against the table.

Genevieve glared heatedly at the brunette witch standing in the middle of the aisle as she telekinetically killed member after member of the coven and she nodded discreetly to the two large men standing at the back of the church waiting for her signal, indicating that it was time to act. Numerous dead bodies littered the floor as the remaining witches attempted to fight back against the alone Claire witch but, like so many before them, they had underestimated her power and desire to protect her love ones. The two witches acting as bouncers crept up behind Imogen with determined expressions etched on their faces and Genevieve smiled smugly as she turned her attention back to helping Hayley work through her contractions.

Imogen let out a shocked cry when someone roughly grabbed her arms from behind and twisted them behind her back at an uncomfortable angle as she struggled against them but it only increased the discomfort. A pair of calloused hands slipped a pair of metal handcuffs around her wrists, locking them together at the small of her back and she opened her mouth to mutter a spell to unlock them but a cloth was suddenly shoved into her mouth before being tied at the back of her head. She gagged in protest as she writhed against whoever was holding her captive but they were stronger than her and tears poured unapologetically from her tears in a mixture of frustration, pain and anger.

Magical energy hummed idly in her veins but she was unable to cast any verbal spells with the cloth blocking her speech and she couldn't use her hands to perform nonverbal spells. It was a special kind of torture, rendering her useless as she was forced to watch her friend in pain and to witness her other friend going through the same torture without being able to comfort him or offer him any support.

Your godmother, Imogen Claire. She's the kind of woman who never lets anyone or anything keep her down.

Imogen struggled against the strong hands hold her back as her scream was muffled by the cloth in her mouth and she froze momentarily as she watched in fear as Genevieve picked up the same ceremonial athame that was used in the Harvest ritual. Her eyes widened in horror as the light from above reflection on the sharp edge of the blade and she gasped around the gag in her mouth as she fought back against her captive with renewed determination.