Not in the sense that she didn't know where she was, but rather, she didn't know who she was. It felt like everything that made her who she was before had been stripped away, leaving her naked and in unbearable pain. Every agony, every pain, every regret, circled her like patient scavengers, waiting for her to eventually drop so that they could feast. She wouldn't allow herself to do that, but that didn't mean she didn't daydream about the possibility.

It would be so easy to slip away. She hadn't eaten since she had come back from her wolf form, and her already small body had become skinny, malnourished. Jordyn King, the woman who had found her in the forest, had graciously given her the spare bedroom of the cottage, but Mercy hadn't left the room since she arrived about a week ago. She just laid in the bed, curled up with the covers, and daydreamed about her own demise.

She could picture a variety of fates that she could experience. She imagined a painless death, but that one always made her feel sick. After everything she had done during her time as a wolf, running around and tormenting people, she believed that she deserved more than just a swift and painless end.

Sometimes she imagined drowning was a good option. She remembered the lake that she had fallen into once she killed Noah, and how easy it could've been to just stop moving all together. She would've stopped fighting and allowed the water to suffocate her if she knew this would be the world she woke up to.

Maybe fire? After all, fire had been apart of what made her into this unfamiliar being. It had formed her with its flames, and once they died down and she cooled off, the fire still lived inside of her, burning her organs as smoke clogged up her lungs. She knew this death would be more of a painful one, but she didn't particularly mind. She almost found solace in the unity presented before her; wouldn't it be ironic if the very thing that gave her this new life was the same thing to snuff it out?

She didn't know, and in all honesty, she didn't really care.

She was finding it harder to care about things these days. She didn't care about staying inside, whereas before, she couldn't stand it. She didn't long to go outside into the trees and nature, because all of that only reminded her of the scary and unforgiving night that everything changed. She didn't care about finding her family. Hell, she didn't even care what they thought about her disappearance.

But there was one thing she did care about, and that was the judgement. It was the exact reason she had decided to stay with Jordyn instead of leaving to find her parents. She couldn't imagine how they would look at her, whether with fear or anxiousness or horror. She couldn't think about how they would view her, because every time she looked into the mirror of the spare bedroom, all she saw was a monster. She couldn't handle being this broken in front of them; they would only blame themselves, when in reality, everything that she was feeling was her own fault.

Even with the dirt and blood washed from her body after three months of living in it, she still felt dirty and wrong. She had killed three wolves that night—four if she counted Parker—and the reminder of their deaths weighed heavily on her soul, threatening to crush her if she didn't hold it in enough. And her guilt didn't stop there. She had killed more on the three month rampage as a wolf. Most of them had been vampires that accidentally stumbled across her path, but there were some humans and witches as well. She hadn't killed anymore wolves since the night she turned, but it didn't matter. The fact that she even killed one of them was enough to tell her that they must've picked the wrong girl. She was killing the very people she was tasked to protect.

And the First Powers were frustrating. They lived inside of her, and although they didn't come out much, whenever she was in this depressive state, they would repeat what she had already heard a thousand times at this point.

This wasn't your fault.

Traitor wolves don't deserve your grief.

You are stronger than this.

They brought this on themselves.

But these reassurances weren't very reassuring to her. They only reminded her that she had really done it. She had killed Noah, and once she turned, she had ripped Lucy and Caesar Day apart until they were nothing but a pile of flesh and blood. The images were burned against her mind and played themselves in a loop. She couldn't stop reliving that split second where she actually enjoyed the chaos and the revenge. She couldn't stop berating herself for even thinking of enjoying such a terrible thing.

The First Powers reminded her again that this was her nature. Those wolves had betrayed her as their leader, and thus, it was Mercy's right to kill them for their lack of loyalty. Despite this, Mercy was still so young. She couldn't get over the deaths as quickly as they wanted her to, even when she was trying her absolute hardest.

Jordyn was kind to her though, much kinder than she expected a stranger to be. The older woman brought her food every day and tried talking to the child. Even when she remained silent and didn't eat, Jordyn tried again the next day. She smiled every morning and Mercy was reminded of her own mom. They both had those hazel eyes and dark brown hair. It was hard to look at Jordyn when she thought about her mother.

But Mercy didn't talk, she hadn't this entire week after asking Jordyn if she could stay with her. She hadn't wanted to speak for fear that only pain would tumble out and she would have to experience it all over again. She didn't speak because she deserved this silence. She didn't speak because she had nothing worthwhile to say.

How could anyone trust the words of a murderer?

It was approaching the second week that she had lived in the small cottage, and Mercy was in bed still, dressed in light blue pajamas that Jordyn had bought her. The woman filled the spare bedroom with clothes and toys, but Mercy was never interested by any of it. She just wanted to lie there and forget the world. She wanted to forget herself.

If only it could be that easy.

Her eyes were wide open, staring at the familiar yellow wallpaper. The bedroom was relatively big, with a large four poster bed, a matching armoire, and a big wooden dresser. There was a closet and a bathroom connected to the room, so Mercy technically didn't even have to leave the confines at all. She had everything that was necessary here, even if she hated to admit that.

Jordyn had just left the room after another failed attempt at getting Mercy to eat. She left the tray of food on the dresser when she exited, and Mercy could smell the bacon and eggs from where she was lying down. She didn't react to the smell; it only made her feel sicker.

She was so close to falling back asleep like she usually did during the day, but then, her ears perked up at the soft strumming of an instrument from the main living room of the cottage.

While Mercy had heard music before, she never realized how intensely her senses had evolved. Where before the music would've sounded pleasing, now, with her senses heightened to what felt like a hundred, she could hear every brush of fingertips against string. She could feel the music lifting into the air like a bird taking flight. She could sense the vibrations of the noise in the floorboards. She could close her eyes and feel the notes and chords in her heart.

She didn't even realize when she had gotten out of bed, but she was drifting down the hallway quietly. The music grew louder, and it was heavenly to Mercy. How had she lived her whole life without hearing this? It was like a call from the heavens, or her final savior from this terrible life.

She peeked her head out from behind the hallway, finding Jordyn sitting idly on the couch with a beautiful guitar in her arms, strumming softly as she hummed under her breath. Mercy watched her quietly, not wanting to intrude even as she longed to approach and hear the music better, more clearly. She stayed glued to her spot, her eyes latched onto the strings. They wiggled after Jordyn strummed, like how the water wiggled after throwing a rock into it. Mercy studied the movements, studied the sound, and she couldn't get enough of it. After being numb for this long, she was feeling something new, almost an appreciation for the music, but more.

Before she could move and hide away, Jordyn looked up and saw her standing there, half of her body extended out from behind the curve of the hallway. The older woman's eyes widened, and her strumming stopped, disappointing Mercy greatly. The child didn't move, and there was a long silence between them.

"Hey," Jordyn said in slight surprise and slight confusion, probably wondering what had gotten Mercy to leave the room. "Did you eat? Are you hungry still? I got some leftover bacon—"

She moved to stand up, but Mercy was at her side in an instant, a hand on the woman's shoulder as she shook her head. Jordyn's eyes widened even more in surprise, having not seen the child move this fast before. Mercy didn't pay her any mind though, and her eyes were still locked onto the guitar.

She tilted her head in curiosity, and even Jordyn looked down at the instrument in her hands before meeting Mercy's gaze again.

"Do you like music?" She asked the girl, and, silent as ever, Mercy nodded her head as she removed her hand from the older woman's shoulders. Her eyes didn't stray from the object, and Jordyn found herself smiling. "Here," she said, patting the seat next to her. "I'll show you."

Instead of sitting next to her, Mercy sat on the floor, legs crossed while she stared at the guitar intensely. Jordyn felt a little uneasy with the child's undivided attention on her after days of not getting her to do anything, but she took a deep breath and played for the girl anyway.

Jordyn watched as Mercy's face lit up with fascination, staring at the guitar as if it were an unknown thing. The woman played a small tune she had learned in her teen years, and Mercy was immediately entranced, her multicolored eyes flickering over the strings and the neck and the curved body. It was like watching a fighter discover boxing rings for the first time, and Jordyn smiled widely.

"See," Jordyn explained, gesturing to her left hand, where her fingers arched and pressed into the strings to make different noises. "It's a little out of tune, but you get the gist." She paused, her right hand pressing against the strings to stop the music. Mercy looked up at her, having been too focused on what was in front of her to notice that Jordyn was talking to her. "I could teach you, if you'd like?"

Mercy glanced back at the guitar once before meeting Jordyn's gaze. If the older woman didn't know better, she could've sworn she saw the child smile. "I would like that," she spoke quietly, but Jordyn was just happy she had spoken at all. The woman was already enthusiastic as she slid to the floor as well, leaning toward the child to give her a better view at what she was doing.

And Mercy watched it all with a new light on her face, as if she were lost in the dark and had finally found a way out.

>

Klaus was at his wit's end, and he was extremely close to tearing out his own hair or tearing out the heart of any unsuspecting victim that got in his way. Either option would work, but he wasn't sure if either one would stop his frustration.

He had searched for Mercy for years at this point, and there was nothing, not even a whisper on the wind of the girl. He and Hayley hadn't stopped looking for her, but they both knew that her sudden disappearance was getting to them both in ways that they weren't ready for. Hayley was struggling with not knowing the whereabouts of her daughter, but she was also able to see Hope, unlike Klaus, who had nobody left. Elijah had forgotten all about their vow, and the rest of his siblings knew to stay away for good reason. The hybrid tried his best to remind himself that the isolation was for the safety of his daughter, but he couldn't be at peace until he found the other half of that equation. He couldn't be at peace until he found his other daughter who was still lost.

He clenched his fists and threw the map to the side, walking toward the witch and watching as she cowered in fear.

"Your spells are useless yet again," he snapped at the woman, and he took solace in watching her flinch back, afraid. "I suppose it would be a shame to kill you for such insolence, but you've exhausted my patience long enough."

"Just give me more time," the woman pleaded, shaking her head. She was a mousy blonde, with impish features that scrunched up when she was scared. Klaus had only known her for a month and every time she promised him progress, he was left with nothing yet again. Her words were becoming annoying, and he wouldn't hesitate to tear her limb from limb for yet another one of her failures.

Klaus shook his head, towering over the short girl. "You've had time," he growled, his face a perfect picture of anger. "And yet you've continued to provide me with nothing. No information, no leads, and no solutions." He stood right in front of her now, and she was shaking, lowering her eyes to the floor. "I believe you've served your purpose."

His hand flashed out and he had her suspended in the air by the grip on her throat. She choked, her small hands grappling onto Klaus's wrist as she tried to gain leverage and loosen his fingers. It was useless—he knew that—and he watched pleasantly as her face began turning a grotesque purple color.

But then, completely out of the blue, Klaus stumbled back, his hands coming down to press against his chest in confusion and hope. It felt like he was suddenly hit with a train of emotions, but they weren't his own. The feelings were settled into his chest, and his eyes grew big as he realized that it was the same spot that Mercy's connection had formed when she turned all those years ago. He could feel her again, and he tried to keep his heart from leaping at the slim possibility of seeing her, holding her.

He could hear the witch gasping for breath on the floor, and he stood straight, getting his bearings together. When the witch looked at him, he was expressionless.

"You have one chance," he told her, holding up a single finger. "If you can't find her trace, I will happily dispose of you before you can find another excuse to fool me with."

The blonde girl nodded quickly, and Klaus watched as she took out another map and laid it flat against the table. She scattered some black sand over the surface with trembling hands. Like always, Klaus moved to step beside the girl, holding his hand out to her. He was the only connection she was able to use to find Mercy, and he hoped that with the sudden onslaught of feeling in his chest being renewed, the spell would finally work.

The witch mumbled quickly under her breath, and Klaus rolled his eyes as her voice shook, obviously knowing the consequences if she couldn't get this to work like the last dozen times she tried.

Klaus watched as the witch gasped, and the black sand that covered the map clustered together, moving slowly and yet with purpose to the left. Klaus couldn't let his eyes leave the small trail of sand, and when it finally stopped and formed a small circle, he memorized the place.

When the witch looked up to inform him of the successful spell, he was already gone.

>

Jordyn was struggling with Mercy. The girl had opened up over the past few years and showed Jordyn more and more of her lovable character, but there were also times where she would completely close off, and today was one of those days.

This specific day seemed to be one that haunted Mercy. Every year on the day, the girl would grow quieter, as silent as she had been when she first arrived at Jordyn's cottage. She would become empty, like all of the things that Jordyn had come to love about her were ripped away, and she was nothing but a shell of a person. It happened like this every year, but today, it was different, more intense than usual.

And when Mercy passed the empty stage in her repeating cycle, she usually ended up with anger coursing through her blood. Even Jordyn was frightened when Mercy got mad.

And indeed she was mad, but she was also upset, and Jordyn wanted to know why. The girl had never told her why this day brought up such horrible memories, and the woman never wanted to ask, respecting Mercy's privacy. But there was still that curiosity in Jordyn's mind, paired with the fact that if she knew what was upsetting Mercy, she might've been able to calm her down.

But she didn't know, and it was obvious that Mercy liked it that way.

Their small cottage was buzzing with magic, and Jordyn briefly wondered if Mercy had broken the cloaking spell on the house during her tantrum. It had happened before, but Mercy always apologized and put it back up before any passerby could see them. However, the girl was still directly in the middle of her own hurricane, and it didn't look like it was stopping anytime soon to replace the spell quick enough. They were exposed to the world, and at the worst time possible.

"Mercy!" Jordyn shouted, pounding her fists onto the wood of the spare bedroom. The door was locked and shut tightly, but she could still hear the smashing of objects as Mercy screamed in anger and pain. "Mercy! Open this door!"

Surprisingly, it did. The door flew open, and Jordyn was taken aback, having only a split second to duck before a vase was flying at her head, thrown by the angry child.

"Leave me alone!" She yelled, her eyes fiery in their green and gold tint. Despite the anger on her face, there were tears streaming down her cheeks, and she looked as broken as Jordyn had ever seen her. "Get out!"

Another object, this time a shoe, was thrown at Jordyn, and she couldn't duck as it hit her in the stomach. She was surprised that it knocked the breath out of her, but she shouldn't have been; Mercy had always been much stronger than she looked.

The girl had grown tall in the past few years, looking lanky with her sudden growth spurt. She stood on the bed with long legs, and wind whirled around her, causing her much longer hair to lift up around her head, tangling it further. She wore leggings and a loose grey t-shirt that she had bought with Jordyn at a thrift store. It was much too big for her, and the hem of the shirt fell below her butt, making her look smaller than she actually was.