everything she needed for the advanced spell. She sat in the attic of the Abattoir, having just finished spreading a circle of salt. She grabbed the few candles she found in one of the spare rooms, placing all four of them on the outskirts of the circle; there was one for each bone that the Hollow needed in order to be reborn. The wolf book sat on the chest that Hope had been looking through earlier, open to display the spell she needed. The sun had fallen past the center of the sky, spilling red and orange into the room through the window.

Once she had finished setting up the candles, she waved her hand, lighting them all with surprising ease. Next came the hard part, and Mercy walked over to the book, making sure to remember each and every word written there. The language was old, possibly the same one the Hollow was acquainted with: Creole.

Next, Mercy went to the door of the room, leaning against it and pressing her ear to the wood to try and hear if anybody was near. Even with her werewolf hearing becoming more heightened, she heard nothing, and so she was set and ready to begin.

She grabbed the jawbone from next to the wolf book, feeling its coolness against the palm of her hand; the feeling made her shiver.

"Okay Mercy," she spoke to herself quietly, shaking away any doubts that the spell would go awry. Akela herself had said that she should be able to complete the spell easily, but she was still anxious nonetheless. "Don't screw this up."

With those amazing words of encouragement, Mercy stepped over the line of salt and sat in the middle of the circle. She set the bone down delicately in front of her, leaning back on her heels and breathing deeply.

While Mercy had practiced magic before, this spell felt different. The girl tried to take into account the few pointers that the werewolf book wrote about, which included a lot of grounding and shielding. These weren't unfamiliar to witch magic, but the main difference was that Mercy could feel a buzzing from inside her chest, as if every one of her atoms were bouncing against each other. It made her breath hitch in astonishment. She had never felt magic like this, as if there was a roaring cloud of thunder inside of her.

The second that she began chanting the incantation, the room's temperature dropped, similar to the cold feeling that was usually accompanied by the Hollow. The single lightbulb above her head flickered, even as her voice remained steady. When she didn't die immediately after the incantation was spoken, she prepared herself to repeat the words.

She repeated them three more times, meaning that she spoke the sentences four times in total. After she said the final word for the last time, she gasped.

Her head was thrown back, facing the ceiling, and her eyes were golden, but tinged with blue around the edges. The flames of the candles rose so high that she could feel the heat of them against her numb body. But despite the flames, the room had grown ice cold, and her next breath was a cloud of air leaving her lips.

She was no longer in the attic of her family's home, but watching as images flashed behind her eyes. All the images were tinted with the same blue light that was the Hollow's signature. They flashed by quickly, almost too quickly to comprehend, but Mercy caught onto the few that stuck out.

First she saw Hope, Mercy, and Hayley laying in bed, all of their crescent birthmarks open for show and aligned as they slept. The image changed and she saw Hope, sitting on her bed and looking down at a blank paper. When her twin looked up, Mercy saw that her eyes glowed a bright blue.

The images came faster; Mercy saw Hope causing mayhem in the streets of New Orleans, though at this point, Mercy realized that it wasn't truly her sister. She saw Hayley, cradling the older twin close in the courtyard of the Abattoir, surrounded by their aunts and uncles.

Suddenly, she saw the bayou, and even stranger, she saw the faces of Caesar and Lucy Day.

Back in the Abattoir, Mercy's eyes began to bleed red, and she gasped as if choking, the air harder to breathe into her lungs than it had been before. She was able to finally inhale a big gust of oxygen, only to release it into a shrill scream.

In the room where Hayley's last mementoes of her parents were stashed, both her and Klaus sat up straight, exchanging a frightened, startled glance before flashing to the sound of their daughter.

Mercy was unaware of their presence in the attic, but the light above them flickered expeditiously, her gasps of air sounding strained. "Mercy!" Hayley cried out, her hand coming up to her mouth in horror at the sight of blood on her daughter's face. She moved forward immediately, but the flames rose so high that they almost brushed the ceiling, blocking them out.

Mercy was still seeing the images; she saw visions of her parents, dead at the hands of the Hollow. The images changed with subtle differences, whether or not they were staked, or burned, or desiccated. No matter what though, they ended up dead. Even Hope, the picture of grace, laid on the ground of the Abattoir, blood seeping out of her mouth and her blue eyes lifelessly staring at her. Mercy screamed again at the sight, but the spell was so powerful, too powerful. It wouldn't let her out of its grasp even if she wanted it to.

Klaus felt fear grip his bones, seeing his daughter a victim at the hands of a spell. He saw through the heat of the flames at what was sat in front of her, and he was shell-shocked to find that it was one of the remains of the Hollow that Hayley had found. He briefly wondered how Mercy had discovered it, but he saved that thought for later, when his daughter wasn't in danger.

He whirled his head around, trying to figure out what to do. He noticed the circle of salt around her, knowing that in order to break the spell, he would need to break the circle. He ground his teeth together at hearing another scream rip through her throat; it was one of the few times in his life that he felt helpless. Hayley cried out again, trying to get the attention of Mercy, but he knew it would be no use.

Acting without hesitation, he did the only thing he could think of. He ripped off an iron railing from the old fireplace in the corner of the attic. It was rusted in his grasp, but he had already thrown it by the time he noticed.

The iron railing was able to break through the barrier, stabbing itself into one of the walls behind Mercy. As a result, a small line shifted through the salt, and without the circle being complete, Mercy collapsed, shaking and curling into a ball on the floor. The flames disappeared immediately, and the room felt deathly cold.

"Mercy!" Hayley screamed, falling to the ground next to her child and bringing her close to her chest. Klaus fell next to them, placing his hand on the back of his daughter's head. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, fear making his body shake. He refused to let them fall though, knowing that Mercy needed him to be strong for her.

"Mercy? Baby, we're here," Hayley's voice trembled, trying her best to wipe the blood from the girl's face. The blood didn't leave though, only mixing with the tears that fell rapidly from the little girl's eyes. Klaus's jaw clenched.

"Mercy, sweetheart, look at us," he whispered gently, his voice so soft that even he didn't recognize it. Mercy was still shaking, and when Klaus moved his hand from her head to her arm, he realized that she felt ice cold.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, remembering the images that flashed through her head. She let out a sob, shaking her head back and forth. "Y-You—" she cut herself off on a whimper. "The Hollow, it's more powerful than you know. The curse, the werewolves, me, we're all connected."

Klaus grew confused, and Hayley met his gaze with an identical expression. "Mercy, you're not making any sense—"

"She'll kill you!" She yelled, ripping herself from their grasp and scurrying back on her butt. They watched her, wide-eyed, unsure of how to react to her words. The little girl brought her knees up, quivering as she rocked back and forth. "She'll kill you," she whispered it this time, but the words were heard by her parents either way.

"Mercy, we won't die, love," Klaus said sweetly, but she only shook her head, her eyes meeting his gaze. He almost recoiled by the look on her face.

"I saw it," she hissed. "I saw you and Mom and Hope all dead. I saw her above you, laughing at what she did." Klaus's jaw clenched tightly, glancing at Hayley before turning back to his daughter, who seemed more fearful than he had ever seen her before. Her voice was calmer when she spoke next, almost cold. "But now... Now I know what she wants."

"The Hollow?" Hayley asked, and their daughter nodded stoically. "What does she want?"

Mercy met their gaze evenly, blood and tears staining her cheeks. "Me. She wants me."

Hayley's gaze shot to Klaus, her eyes filled with worry and fear. Klaus felt the same emotions bristling like firewood in his chest, and he hated it. He opened his mouth to say something, anything really, but then both hybrids heard a commotion from downstairs.

"Stay with her," Klaus commanded, pointing at Mercy, and Hayley nodded, moving closer to their daughter.

"Dad!" Mercy screamed, but Hayley only held the child in her arms, hushing her to silence. The mother wiped the rest of the blood from her face, but Mercy could still feel the stains on her skin as if they were scars.

She tried to block out the images from the spell, but they burned against her eyelids whenever she closed them. She curled into her mom, wishing that she had stayed away from the spell in the first place. She recalled Akela's words once more.

What you may see might not be what you want.

She couldn't agree more.

Eventually she fell asleep, welcoming the darkness in place of the horrid flashes of her dead family. But as she drifted off, she heard the whisper of a word between her ears: a name.

Inadu.

>

When Mercy eventually awoke, it was past afternoon the next day, and her entire body was sore from the affects of casting such a powerful spell. She sat up, groaning at the pain in her bones. She rubbed her head, realizing that her hair had been braided while she slept. She smiled at the thought of her mother, but it faded almost immediately.

The images of their dead bodies flashed in her memory, and she bit her lip in pain, looking around the room to see where they had gone.

"Mom and Dad left," a voice surprised her, and Mercy turned to see Hope standing in the room, her hands clasped gently in front of her. "They're looking for a way to beat the Hollow."

Mercy shook her head, her concern growing. "That's the thing Hope," she told her twin earnestly. "They can't kill her."

Hope shook her head, moving further into the room and coming to sit on the bed next to Mercy. "The New Orleans ancestors have returned," she explained, surprising the younger twin. Mercy briefly looked around her, sensing the sudden new magic in the air that hadn't been there yesterday. The link was truly there again, connecting the living and dead once more. "They stopped her before. They can do it again."

Mercy furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head again. "No they can't," she said solemnly. "The Hollow's already gained too much power. I can feel her back in this world. The ancestors won't be able to hold her unless—"

Mercy stopped, and Hope turned to her sister, looking confused. Mercy realized the differences between them then, and she almost found it ironic that despite Hope being the elder twin, Mercy felt much more older in that moment. "Unless what?" The girl asked cluelessly, and Mercy's eyes had grown worried.

"To contain someone that powerful, they would need to sacrifice someone with equal power," she explained what the wolf books had already informed her, but Hope still looked puzzled. Sighing, the girl grabbed onto her sister's hand, pleading for her to understand. "They would need to sacrifice someone immortal."

Hope tilted her head, and Mercy copied the action, hearing distant whispers in her ear. Hope closed her eyes, listening closer, and when she did, she gasped, looking to Mercy again.

"It's Dad," she said, and both girls immediately moved into action. Hope tore the bracelet that kept her firstborn magic at bay from her wrist, leaving it on the bed as they headed toward where the ancestors were leading them.

While Hope was dressed and ready, Mercy was still clothed in long pajama pants and a white tank top. The pavement of the sidewalks was cold against her bare feet, and she shivered as she held her twin's hand. The two girls hurried through the streets of New Orleans, heading to where their parents lay in St. Anne's Church.

Mercy's heart raced, afraid that the images she had seen yesterday would soon become a reality. She suddenly berated herself for not spending more time with him, for not knowing him more than as a distant father. Hope had grown close to Klaus already, and Mercy envied her in that moment, because if they were to never see him again, Hope would have a content memory to reminisce about while Mercy would only have the fleeting image of her dad walking away from her in the attic.

They had finally arrived, and they snuck into the church quietly, hearing the raised voices and grunts of pain from what sounded like their mother and a familiar man's voice.

Hope raced forward, Mercy next to her and still holding on to her grasp. They approached and Mercy noticed the salt of circle on the ground, reminding her of yesterday and making her falter in her steps. Inside the circle lay their father and a dark skinned man that Mercy briefly remembered seeing when she had distracted the Hollow from the kids that were supposed to be sacrificed. A woman stood above them, her hand twisting as a reddish substance on the ground moved toward Klaus. Their mother stood outside the circle next to their Uncle Elijah, both unable to cross.

"No!" Hope screamed, and all the adults looked in their direction except Klaus, who still remained unconscious. Mercy's hand clenched Hope's slightly, and the girl repeated the action with her voice unwavering. "You promised to help, but you're not helping. You're hurting us."

Mercy let a smirk cross her features, surprising them all with the resemblance to Klaus. "And we won't let you."

The twins raised their hands, their power stronger when used together. It was almost too easy to make the strange woman disappear as well as blow the salt from the circle away, breaking the connection to the ancestors for now. Hayley's jacket lifted up, and even Elijah strained to remain upright at the onslaught of air.

Once they were sure their father was safe, both twins lowered their hands almost simultaneously. Mercy watched as their dad opened his eyes, and after exchanging a small smile with her twin, the two girls ran up to the man. They threw themselves into his arms, and Mercy relished this feeling for a moment. Her father and her twin, safe with her, while their mother and uncle stood just as safely behind them. She had to remind herself over and over that they were okay, that the Hollow hadn't succeeded yet, but despite her reassurances, she still felt the fear that they could be ripped away at any second.

Klaus held them just as tightly, more so Mercy than Hope, remembering the words that Davina had spoken to him and Hayley.

"It's all in the bloodline," she had said desperately, trying to get them to understand. "And that bloodline ends with Mercy."

"What are you saying?" He had asked her, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. The words were only too similar to the things that Mercy said just the day before.

Davina met his eyes then, and he swore he almost saw sympathy. "Mercy's status as the lou gèrye will only grow as she gets older," she explained softly, shaking her head. "Her destiny as such is to defeat the Hollow, and out of all the Labonairs, Mercy is the one that scares her the most. With all the wolf ancestors on her side, she has the most chance in stopping the Hollow. This makes her the biggest target."

Klaus looked at Hayley over his daughters' shoulders, and he could see that she was remembering the same conversation as he was. Worry filled her scared eyes, but also determination.

No matter what happened, they wouldn't let the Hollow touch either of them, but Mercy most of all. If what Davina had said was true, then that meant that Mercy would be the one to inevitably put the Hollow down for good.

They just hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

>

Mercy sat quietly in the courtyard, feeling tired after the past two days and the events that encompassed them. She hadn't spoken much to either of her parents, and she could feel the concern coming off of them in waves because of it. She couldn't help it; in all honesty, she was afraid.

The Hollow had always seemed like some boss battle, a fight that would surely happen once Mercy was ready and had learned the ways of the wolf from her ancestors. She only now realized that life wasn't exactly fair, and it most certainly wouldn't wait until Mercy was prepared. No, she had to be ready before life could throw her another curveball. If not for herself and the wolves, than for her family, especially for Hope.

She couldn't bear it if anything happened to them when she could've been able to stop it beforehand.

She felt the heavy weight of this responsibility on her shoulders, and she sighed. She felt older than she had been when she arrived in New Orleans, as if she had aged years when in reality it had been a little over a week. She scoffed when remembering that only a little while ago, she had been oblivious to all of this, playing in the woods near her house and climbing trees with a carefreeness that she missed.

She wished she could go back, but she knew that was impossible. She couldn't imagine not knowing what she knew now, and although it currently felt like a burden, she knew that her role as the lou gèrye was important. She needed to be strong. Weakness would only allow the Hollow a chance to strike once again, and she couldn't let that happen.