Blood painted the walls of the large room that Elijah Mikaelson had taken residence in. A room that contained nothing more than a bed that was too small for his large frame. With his usual attire of a pristine black suit and crisp white shirt now replaced drenched in fresh blood. Not a single inch of Elijah's attire or exposed skin was clean, stained with the blood of his victims. 

Situated in a chair close to the small dusted window that sunlight could not penetrate. His head rolled back and his eyes closed as one hand waved about in tune with the music that played from the large stereo, a classic - a favourite of Elijah's.

A muffled groan reached Elijah's ears which caused him to grumble, raising his head and opening his eyes. His once soft eyes were now replaced with an emptiness "Quiet" he ordered. 

Returning to how he was, he let the melody of the music take him back to the place of calm. But still the muffled cry arose breaking through the music. Sighing, raising his head again, he pushed himself to his feet. Walking and climbing over the vast bodies that he had accumulated in such a short period of time. Men, women and several children. 

The bodies never seemed to end as the scattered corpses soon filed into a large pile. Torn limbs scattered across the concrete floor. Standing above the source of the crying, his head tilted to the side as he sighed frustratingly. 

"What must one do to obtain silence?" he spoke to himself.

Bending down he wrapped his hand around the throat of a woman whom Elijah had fed of several times without killing. She proved useful for the most part, but right now she was getting on his last nerve. 

"P-p-please....M-my...son" she whimpered with a croak.

Elijah smiled "Was delicious" he licked his lips.

Forcing her head to the side so that she could see the body of her lifeless teenage son whose body was mangled and mixed with the limbs of his other victims. Sobbing in his grasp, and with a sharp tug Elijah snapped her neck in half and dropped her dead body to the floor. 

Stepping over her warm corpse Elijah stood in front of a mirror and fixed his tie. Pulling out a bloodied handkerchief from his top pocket and opening it up "Blood on my favourite suit" he spoke to himself and dabbed at the already dry blood.

Tossing the soiled handkerchief to the floor into a puddle of blood that crept across the floor. Elijah held his hand head level in the air as the music reached its finish and slammed the door close in his wake.