[insp. by "The Conjuring"]

Nik and Caroline Mikaelson are a couple of demonologists whom have recently become infamously known for having investigated a possessed doll called Annabelle.

Caroline met Nik back in university, when she moved to New Orleans to study at Tulane - although the Psychology program was more of an excuse, since the main reason for her choice was her interest in the supernatural and ritualistic culture of the Crescent City. Nik, who at the time was already working at his Anthropology Ph.D., took an immediate fancy in the eccentric student who went around asking weird questions and collecting even weirder objects, and couldn't help but offer his help when she needed it for one of her various researches. She was still preparing for her Master degree when they eventually married.

Although Nik understood barely half of Caroline's stories and experiences, he did come from a family whose roots were imbedded deeply in the city's folklore - his own mother was a true believer of Voodoo and various superstitions - and soon enough he was accompanying the young woman wherever her instincts brought her.

Eventually they left their professional jobs behind after having come face to face with their first, true demonic possession, something that put their actual lives and maybe even their immortal souls in danger: Caroline, who has had psychic abilities ever since she could remember, is relatively shocked by the event, while her husband Nik comes out utterly changed from the experience - he then decides to devote his life to protect his wife to the best of his capacities, thus starting their new career as demonologists, authors and lecturers.

Their travels following various supernatural and paranormal events have brought them all over the world, from United States to Europe to Asia, and they have acquired quite the large, creepy collection of artifacts and objects more or less possessed or demonic. The danger of these entities latching onto them and following them back home is an inexcapable one, but Caroline can count on the help of her best friend Bonnie - a Voodoo practitioner who keeps her safe through blessings, rituals and amulets; Nik was wary of her at first, as if witchcraft was somehow less believable than demons, but he quickly had to change his mind when the amulets Caroline keeps hanging from her neck and around her wrists prevented her from being possessed during one of their interventions. He then started to wear them as well.

Now, they've been back in Virginia for merely a week when they're contacted by Damon and Elena Salvatore, whose house seems to be haunted and is making their lives a living hell...

He thought he could keep her, He laughs a sound Caroline would not have found beautiful,

But this, this blonde, she did come the closest after all, but alas, they all leave.

They leave, Every fucking time.

Not once, not bloody once, have they stayed, Not bloody once have they with honesty clear as day, touched his cheek, braced his breast, held his wrist and told him, we’ll remain, we’ll stay.

Not once have they told him, Here, this hand, this hand right here, it will never unclasp yours.

Klaus gets lonely and has a tea party, but it’s a shame he’s the only guest able to hold a conversation

“You can’t go on living in that big old house with her ghost!”

In another world, another life, Caroline dies.

But dead doesn’t mean gone. And the dead have a tendency to linger sometimes.

Caroline felt herself chuckle at the fact here she is near her death. Death is a word that no one wants to hear because it brings agony and misery. How can someone be present one minute and gone the next? How tragic that life is so brief. A feeling that your soul is being slowly drained out of you. Caroline cannot help but believe that death is not as horrible as it appears. Yes, death may be horrible, and some people are taken away far too young, never having the chance to live a complete life, but Caroline couldn't help but be grateful. As she felt at ease with herself.

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It is the summer solstice when he first hears the sound of her name.

Those words mean little in his realm; there is no other season but winter within his borders and his nights are always longer — as if the sun does not like casting its warm light upon these dark lands.

He’d be offended, but he knows the sun and truth be told? He doesn’t like her.

Still, he does not think it a coincidence that the first time that name is uttered in his halls is the day when light is at its strongest. The universe is rarely subtle… He would know, he was one of its creators. 

And, well, he says ‘uttered’ and he says ‘halls’ but the first time he hears her name it is actually being screamed in his dungeons. Gasped out in a desperate plea among tears and blood and all those damn ‘please’s.

It doesn’t fit. Of course it doesn’t. It is a lovely name, and that was not a place meant for lovely things.

They have a way of perishing fast in these lands.

And yet, somehow, however, her name lingers in his mind all day long. Invading his thoughts as easily as his armies invade enemy lands. Playing itself on repeat, until he thinks he is going insane.

Until he finds himself whispering it when night has fallen.