Title: The poetry of Caroline
One-shot. Complete.
- This was originally meant to be a prompt word drabble but eventually became a full length one-shot.
- Written for winifredburklez in tumblr
* This story is quite dark and it has no happy ending. Please take this under consideration before reading it and please also read the warnings first.
Summary: It could have been anyone I suppose. But I like the poetry of Caroline. (Mates story gone wrong. Tragedy.)
Warnings: Dark, horror, M rated, disturbing material, rape, torture, mental illness, character death.
Prompt Words: Torture, Haunt.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Many thanks to my amazing beta Anastasia Dreams!
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.
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Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide.
Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide.
Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies.
Oversaturation curls the skin and tans the hide.
I'll take it by your side.
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.
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It was in the year 2010 he broke his hybrid curse. When he did, his bones twisted and broke, and the pain consumed him whole. Something bent inside him, something that broke and shuttered when he activated his wolf gene again after a thousand years and it was never mended back again.
It was as if lighting passed through him and brought him to his knees. It was not the pain of his transformation. It was something far more cruel and agonizing.
When his wolf was set free, in that moment, he realized it. It was instinctual and it damned him straight to hell.
He screamed and howled in pure anguish as he turned his head and looked at Caroline's body lying lifeless on the rock with a stake embedded deep in her heart.
Tears filled his eyes and he wanted to rip his own heart out with his newfound claws.
He had killed her.
He had deprived the world of her presence and cursed himself forever.
He screamed louder then as his bones cracked and his body shifted in grotesque angles.
He tried to avert his eyes from her haunting image as he turned into the beast he was, but it was futile. His eyes were locked upon her corpse and he would never be able to erase that image from his mind.
When he first saw her face-to-face, she was waiting for him inside the circle of fire; he should have known, he should have felt it then.
And he did. Somewhere deep down he did.
It was a feeling just underneath the skin, deep down to his soul, ready to burst and consume him entirely. He thought that the tingling sensation he felt when he first saw her was born by his excitement and his desire to break his curse. He was so close to finally achieving his goal that nothing else mattered. He had been blinded by his own ghosts and he had not realized what he was truly doing. If his wolf were not hibernating when he first saw her, he would have instantly recognized her. But that night he didn't.
If only he had known better. He didn't know how it was possible but it was. Caroline was his other half. His mate. The lost part of his soul that always made him ache. That missing part that made him feel lost and alone. The part that he did not know he was actually missing until the night he broke his curse.
The witches must have known all along. Esther won that night. What she had not achieved by cursing him, she had achieved by him breaking free from her curse. Not even the hunter's curse he had endured for 52 years, 4 months and 9 days had managed to break him in all the ways this one did.
He had lost all sense of time after that. He didn't know how long time passed. Decades? Centuries? More than that? Less than that?
All he remembered was the night he broke the bind that kept his wolf locked inside. It was the night that all clocks stopped working for him. The night where another curse, far worse than the one before, was casted upon him and this time he was the one responsible. And this time there was no way to break it.
That night after one thousand years he turned into a wolf again.
And that wolf spent the next hours snuggled next to Caroline's body, howling and crying and trying to bring her back to life as true despair claimed him.
Salem. Year 2008.
Old burying point cemetery.
.
.
Katherine Pierce walked in the darkness with uncertain steps. She was a vampire, yet this place was giving her the creeps.
The dirt and grass shifted under her heels with each step she took, but she kept walking amongst the looming shadows.
She finally approached the grave where the witch had said would be their rendezvous point when the clock struck midnight.
Katherine stood next to her and watched in silence as the witch placed lilies over the tombstone and whispered something in Latin. The winds changed and clouds covered the moon, allowing only a few dim moonlight rays to illuminate the blackness of the night, to shed light on the trees, their shapes like demons in the dark.
The witch then lit a candle and placed it over the stone and gently threw some salt over the dirt and smiled.
Katherine knew better than to speak so she waited.
The woman was old. Katherine had known her since 1890. However, she didn't look as if she was older than 50 years old..
"The spirits have joined us tonight, hear their whispers in the wind," she mumbled as if she was in a trance.
"Sorry, not into the spiritual karaoke," Katherine mocked and the witch cast a deadly gaze at her.
Katherine smirked but toned down her irony.
"You said you had something for me, so I am here," she impatiently said to the woman with the copper hair that stood in front of her. Truth is that she wanted to get out of here and fast.
"I talk to spirits often Katerina and they talk to me," the Salem witch said with a twisted smile.
"Any useful gossip?" Katherine asked, but she narrowed her eyes when she heard the witch calling her by her birth name.
"Actually, they have plenty to say about the one and only vampire that has escaped Klaus's clutches for so many centuries," the woman said and turned around to watch the grave again, "it must be tiresome to run and have nowhere to hide."
Katherine pressed her lips together.
"What if I were to tell you that there is a way. A way for you to stop running, to stop hiding, to stop living in terror?"
Katherine held in her gasp and her eyes shone in the darkness.
"I would ask what would be the price to pay," was her blunt response to the witch.
The woman laughed and looked at her.
"Only to do what you are told. The spirits are willing to cast their favor upon you. They are on your side," the old crone cryptically said.
"And they want what exactly in return?"
The strange woman extended her hand and placed it on Katherine's shoulder. A comforting touch that sent shivers down the vampire's spine.
"Klaus' demise."
Katherine smiled and looked at the witch with interest.
"What do I have to do?" Katherine asked.
"Your doppelganger is born."
"I know that," Katherine replied, anxious to learn more.
"In time Klaus will sacrifice her and his curse will be broken," the witch said with disdain.
"You want me to stop the sacrifice?"
"On the contrary, I want you to assure that it will take place as it is foretold," the woman said with a demented smile this time and the candle's flame rose and smoke started sprouting from every grain of salt.
Katherine instinctively took a step back.
The witch looked at her with eyes that shined with malice.
"There is a girl that has been born along with the doppelganger. She is young of age; she has blonde hair and green eyes. Her name is… Caroline," the woman said and Katherine could swear that she heard the name Caroline in the wind in hushed whispers.
"You want me to kill her?" Katherine asked feeling uncertain, but the witch simply laughed.
"Yes. More accurately you need to turn her. And then you need to make sure she will be the vampire Klaus will sacrifice in the ritual. No other will do. It has to be her," the witch insisted as madness seemed to bathe the color of her orbs.
"Why her?" Katherine asked, feeling suddenly uneasy.
"Because she was created for him. Her death might help break Niklaus' curse, but it will also cast a new one on him, one far worse than the one the Original witch gave him," the wrinkled woman said, but this time her voice sounded different. It was as if she was possessed.
"Will it kill him?" Katherine asked with a steely tone.
"No. It will do far worse," was the reply.
Katherine looked into the eyes of the witch and felt nothing but darkness.
"You will be free Katerina. But he won't be. Never again. Don't you like the poetry in that?"
Present day
.
.
The room was dusty and the shadows battled the light, some of the rays catching in their depths grains of gold dust. He was sprawled on the floor, his back leaning over to the wall with pieces of plaster all around him. Nothing had survived his rage and his wrath. Debris, broken furniture and destroyed works of art lay everywhere in pieces.
However, he had could see nothing but her.
The white dress and her blond hair seemed like a vision of brutal beauty to Klaus' eyes. He even smiled as Caroline kept dancing. Round and round and round she went. Vivacious movements full of grace. She extended her hands in the air and titled her head back. She seemed to flow and levitate through the air, her bare feet moving all around.
She kept singing a melody he could not recognize but it was haunting all of his waking hours. It was like it was attached with her shallow breathing and it filled his ears with each passing moment with a despair he never thought a man without feelings could ever feel. It was a whisper no one else could hear and yet it sounded so loud and it never stopped.
He tried to focus to the sound and escape the sight. He closed his eyes when he noticed the thick blood that poured out of her chest and stained the white fabric that hugged her slender form. The gaping hole right over her heart was the most gruesome sight he had ever seen and for a man that practically invented so many forms of torture that said a lot.
However Caroline did not seem to mind as she kept dancing. Her mumbling became laughter and the blood kept running.
She abruptly stopped and looked at him with her wide eyes.
"It hurts Klaus," she whispered and he screamed.
Mystic Falls. Year 2010.
The night of the sacrifice ritual.
.
.
He strode towards her, the heat reaching his face as the flames that burned all around her illuminated hers.
Blond hair, cherry red lips that trembled as the warmth of the fire enveloped her inside the circle that had her trapped and ready for him.
"Hello Caroline," he said with a confident voice and she rose to her feet. She had a cautious look and yet her gaze was also filled with defiance. She was obviously scared and his presence unnerved her as she realized that it was the beginning of her end. However the way she refused to submit to him and the fact she watched with eyes full of repulsion and anger made his undead heart beat faster. It was the strangest feeling he had ever known, but he decided to ignore it.
She was perfect. The perfect creature for him to use. This moment was meant to be and he actually felt proud that it was her life that would bring forth his true nature.
He could barely hear his doppelganger's pleas to spare sweet Caroline's life, but it was Caroline that tried to stop Elena from begging him.
She refused to give him the satisfaction and he had to admit he was impressed by the young vampire.
She had great potential. However, in his mind the greatest potential she had was the one where her broken heart would break his curse.
He crawled over the floor between the ruins. He had destroyed everything in sight. He noticed the broken leg of a wooden chair and desperately took it and shoved into his heart. He let out a howl of anguish, but he knew it was in vain. He could not die. He was an immortal. He was cursed.
Caroline approached him and knelt in front of him. She cupped his face and looked at his eyes with pity.
He looked at her with a gaze full of pain.
"Why won't you leave me alone?" he complained as he felt her hand wrapping around the wood that was still embedded in his heart.
She slowly pulled it out and he groaned.
"I thought you didn't want to be alone, Klaus. Now you don't have to be. Not ever," she promised and hugged him.
Klaus closed his eyes as his whole body cringed. He could not stand that her hug was tainted with her blood. He could not bear to feel her hot blood wetting his skin.
However he enclosed her in his arms and held her tightly. He hid his face in her golden locks seeking comfort.
He closed his eyes and in his memory the vision of a man that danced around the fire and mourned for his long lost wife came to life.
That man's body had turned to ash centuries ago. He on the other hand would never be so blessed.
Some centuries back, when he was hiding from Mikael and searching to find ways to break his curse he had infiltrated some werewolf packs, set on learning their traditions and secrets.
He never believed that what he learned back then was simply a premonition of his own future.
Year 1180.
In the Appalachian Mountains
.
.
Around the raging fire a man, with long hair and paint all over his body, howled at the moon. He was wearing animal skins that he had savagely torn in many places. He was in anguish and grieving as he danced and sang around the flames. His nails scratched his face and drew blood as he descended further and further into madness.
Klaus eyed the man from far away. It was an intriguing sight.
"What is wrong with him?" he asked as the elder of the tribe sat next to him.
The man with the grey hair was the elder of the native Indian tribe in which Klaus had found refuge. Among them there were many wolves. They were highly spiritual and religious and at first they did not want him to be anywhere close to them as they had felt his true nature. He did not have to resort to compulsion since the elder of their tribe did not want his presence to end in bloodshed. So he welcomed him and Klaus took this opportunity to not only hide from his father but to also learn as much as he could about his origins. His curse had his werewolf side bound, but deep down he could feel the wolf inside him desperately clawing in hopes to finally escape the curse his mother had cast upon him.
"His mate has died. By his hand," the old man said and Klaus looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Why did he kill her?" Klaus asked.
"She was dying. She was in pain. The spirits would not save her."
Klaus's lips twisted. Of course. The spirits. Always the spirits. The same spirits that cursed him and tormented him for all these years.
"So it was a mercy killing," Klaus said and looked as the young werewolf still danced around the flames.
"He could not stand seeing her suffering," the elder said and looked at the sky and then he took some stones and bones and threw them on the ground and looked at them intently. What he saw in them, only he knew.
Klaus noticed that some girls on the other side cried as they looked at the man that kept mourning.
"Are they her family?" he asked as if he was interested. When truth to be told, mortal grief and feelings of pity hardly ever reached his heart anymore.
"They are his sisters. They are saying goodbye to him."
"Is he leaving?" Klaus asked.
"When the sun rises and then sets again he will join his mate in the afterlife," the old man told Klaus and Klaus laughed.
"He will kill himself over a woman?" he asked laughing.
"You do not know many things about mates, do you son?" the man asked and Klaus stopped laughing and looked at him with lethal intent as the word 'son' provoked the beast inside him.
However, the old man did not pay any attention to Klaus's murdering disposition.
"There is no stronger bond than the one that exists between mates. It is great luck and a great curse to find your mate. A calling that reaches deep into the heart of the animal that inhabits your soul."
Klaus looked at him intently. A great luck. A great curse. To never be alone again he thought with a yearning he could not subdue.
"When a werewolf loses his mate he will forever be in pain. He will live his remaining days in this earth in grief and his heart will forever yearn for his other half. But when a werewolf kills his own mate? The Gods won't allow his soul to rest. The spirits turn against him and he is forever damned. The world becomes his torment and his life becomes a curse. There is no greater torture than having to live a life carrying that sin," the man said and stood up and went closer to the girls that cried.
Klaus looked at the man that danced around the flames. He had killed his mate knowing that he would not be far behind her. He was in torment and he was willing to end his life rather than live in so much pain.
Klaus looked at him with something akin to pity. Call it love. Call it a curse. Call it a mate's bond. In the end it was a weakness.
He might have carried the wolf inside him but he was still a vampire. His dead heart would never give in to such weakness.
However he still did not want to be alone.
She slowly and sensually straddled him and pushed him back until his back hit the floor. He gazed intently on her sweet face. Her golden locks seemed to have captured the sun in their depths.
She pulled her skirt up her milky thighs inch by inch and then she ran her hands over his chest and slightly swayed her hips, grinding her body over his.
She leaned over and laced her arms around his neck and kissed him. The kiss seemed as if a butterfly was flapping its wings in the wind. It was soft and it didn't last long. But it was enough to show a flash of all of the colors he craved.
He didn't care about the butterfly effect. He did not care about the chaos that was about to swallow him and spit him right out. He only cared about her and the way her body was twisting and pulsing over his own.
He moaned feeling his need for her multiplying. He always wanted her, but she was a lie. He could never have her.
She gently guided him inside her and pushed the straps of her dress down and revealed her shoulders and the top curve of her breasts.
She smiled at him and he smiled back. Her touch was soothing the physical pain her everlasting absence always caused.
He let his palms explore her stomach and travel up to her breasts, but when he pushed the fabric lower, he noticed that in her perfect ivory skin the wound on her chest getting larger, more blood dropping over his chest and burning him.
She pushed her hips down and started fucking him with abandon and her skin started turning to grey. Her heartbeat was not there. Blood was everywhere. It was sticky and thick. It felt hot and it was like a flood that was drowning him.
He tried to push her off of him, but she clawed her hands over his shoulders and continued riding him. He wanted to throw up, to diminish into nothingness. He felt hollow, empty and his body could not take the pain and the horror anymore.
He screamed and she looked at him with a feverish gaze. The green of her eyes was replaced by blood that ran over her face in crimson tears.
"You killed me!" she whispered.
"No!" he implored her and tears fell from his eyes as her body became a gruesome sight of rotten flesh and mangled meat.
"Why?" she accused him as she looked at her opened chest.
"I am so sorry. So sorry. Forgive me!" he kept mumbling.
"You killed me, you killed me, you killed me, you killed me, you killed me, you killed me, you killed me…..YOU KILLED ME!" she screeched and the inhuman sound that escaped her throat shuttered the windows and broke his ear drums.
Mystic Falls. Year 2010.
The night of the sacrifice ritual.
.
.
In the stillness of the night, chanting could be heard. Greta, Klaus' trusted witch, had already started the ritual.
The Original in question had already killed Tyler so the werewolf that needed to die was already sacrificed. Caroline's heart broke when she saw Tyler dying in Klaus's arms as that monster tore out her friend's heart. She cared for Tyler so much; he was her friend and he was just like her. They were both created in order to die in that sacrifice and they would never have the chance to live their lives. They were simply pawns in someone else's game. They would never travel, they would never see the world, they would never make their dreams come true.
They simply entered this horrific freak show as if they were puppets and now someone was cutting off their strings.
Not someone. Klaus.
Caroline's heartbeat was racing as her skin glowed and reflected the fire from the circle that trapped. Like a lamb ready to go to its slaughter.
She kneeled and was scared out of her mind, but she would not beg. She would not cower and she would not give Klaus the satisfaction to die in his own terms.
She was not Elena; No one would come to save her. No one cared. However, if she had any say in this she would go down fighting. And she only prayed, to anyone listening, that Klaus would not get what he wanted.
The wind blew and the flames all around her started fading away as the witch started lowering the barrier that imprisoned her.
Klaus strode towards her and for the first time his lips called her name.
"Hello, Caroline," he smoothly said, his eyes trained on her and she picked herself up and looked at him. She mustered all her defiance and her strength. Her mom was the sheriff and if she had taught her anything, it was that no matter what you do, don't give in to the bad guys. Not now, not ever.
Her breath hitched. There was something about that man that even now, even like this, as he was ready to kill her, drew her to him. It was like an invisible chord pulling her closer to him. She could not explain it. She could not understand it and she cursed that feeling because the last thing she needed was to find her soon to be murderer attractive in ways she could not explain or even comprehend.
The pull was so strong that the only thing that pulled her out of the abyss of his eyes was Elena's voice.
Elena was begging Klaus to let her go. Her friend was ready to sacrifice her life for her. However, Caroline turned her head and looked at Tyler. He was dead.
There was no way out. The only thing that mattered was not her life anymore. The only thing she could do was fight. For Elena. For her friend and for everything she stood for.
Klaus however didn't even pay attention to Elena. He simply ordered Greta to diminish the flames and he turned his gaze back to Caroline.
Both set of gazes seemed to be glowing in the darkness. One with anticipation and the other with the will to fight until the very end.
Caroline pressed her lips and fisted her palms.
"Your turn." Klaus's voice reached her ears like a shroud of smoke. She barely heard him as her eyes were fixated on his.
She was going to die and he was going to kill her.
And somehow she felt more sorry for him.
Caroline seemed to be looking at one of his paintings, intrigued. The parchment was torn and the canvas half destroyed. She disregarded it with disdain and pouted her lips before she went to another and had the same reaction all over again.
Klaus behind her was moving back and forth like he was autistic and his eyes would not leave the floor he had scratched with his claws endless times. His siblings had locked him inside and he had welcomed the solitude, as he had invited this insanity and accepted that it would never end.
"I think you are losing your touch," she mocked him and smirked. He clenched his eyes shut. He had not slept or rested for days. He could not stand any sound and her voice was not allowing him even a moment of the silence he so needed. He just wanted some peace.
"This was so purely executed. The strokes, the colors, the shapes. Ugh! Awful!" she said and he grunted before he felt a cloth being thrown carelessly at him.
"Stop tormenting me!" he yelled, his throat closing.
Caroline rolled her eyes and tsked him.
"Geez Klaus, I only expressed my constructive criticism here. As an artist you should take it at heart and thrive to improve yourself! You know only 10% percent is talent. The rest is hard work! Or is it 15%-85% I always mixed those up," she rambled and frowned.
It would be an adorable expression for a living being but now on her it was so grating.
"Me and math," she continued, "not such a good combination. I was very good at cheerleading though. I really had those moves down! Ra ra go team!," she cheered and Klaus hit the floor with his hands and lay down.
"Stop talking, just stop talking," he muttered again and again.
"I actually have a great voice if you must know. Quite melodic they have told me. I could sing for you if you want," she proposed in a childlike manner. She seemed to be enjoying herself. His torment was giving her immense pleasure.
He did not know if this was her ghost or if she was simply a figment of his imagination, but moments like these he could not take this torture anymore. He wanted her to go away. He wanted to just sleep. To be left alone. To mourn her without her haunting him.
"Go away," he pleaded once again in vain without looking at her.
Caroline knelt next to him and gently ran her hand through his disheveled hair. He grunted with disgust. She smelled like dirt and decay.
"Don't you want me to stay?" she asked and he could hear the pain that laced her voice. As if his rejection was hurting her.
He opened his eyes and looked into hers.
"No!"
Caroline's eyes turned vicious and she hit his head on the floor with her hand.
"So rude!" she accused him and got up and dusted off her clothes.
She stomped her foot and scoffed.
"And you are the one to talk!" she angrily said, "You are not the one running around barefoot and in bloody old fashioned clothes for the rest of your eternity! I swear, I miss my Louboutin pumps!" she sighed and started walking around, hitting her bare feet on the dirty floor louder and louder.
"Caroline, please-"
Caroline's eyes shone and a twisted smile appeared on her face.
"Yes, do beg. I am sure so many victims of yours begged you before you mercilessly killed them in cold blood, didn't they?" she stated and went near him. No sensitivity or mercy in her gaze.
"At least I didn't," she said with pride, "would you have spared me if I had?" she asked.
"No."
Mystic Falls. Year 2010.
The night of the sacrifice ritual.
.
.
"Caroline, no!"
Klaus could hear Elena's voice, but he could not take his eyes of Caroline.
Her own eyes also looked straight at him. She was outstanding. Full of defiance and contempt. She was the perfect sacrifice. A magnificent vampire like her was the perfect creature to sacrifice to break his curse. It was always meant to be.
He was baffled by the fact that a part of him refused to celebrate this moment. A part of him wanted to spare the girl. To let her go and to allow her to live.
However, he only smiled, because after a thousand years of anticipation tonight he would finally be what he was meant to be. And sweet Caroline was a part of this.
The attraction he felt for her, the way his heart clenched at her sight was nothing more than joy. He was finally at the precipice of glory. He would finally break his curse and the gravitational pull he felt towards that baby vampire was his innate need to complete the ritual and to break Esther's curse.
"It's okay, Elena, now I know what I have to do," the blond beauty said and took even him by surprise. Something that no one had ever done for centuries.
She sped towards Greta and shoved her fangs into the witch's throat. The witch screamed and Caroline was about to drain her dry and put a stop to the ritual and he rushed behind her and stabbed her on the side with a sharp stake.
Caroline screamed in pain as he threw her of Greta and frowned. That scream seemed to unnerve him, but he went closer to the vampire that was writhing with pain on the rock.
Time was running out and he could not understand why he was the one stalling.
He narrowed his eyes. She was not a born killer. If she were she would have snapped Greta's neck and be done with it. However, she followed her instincts so she failed and he could not understand why he felt a tinge of sadness over this.
Klaus kneeled in front of her and turned her over. Her blond hair spilled on the surface of the rock as her eyes, full of pain and a hint of terror, looked at him without backing down.
She was not begging, she was not even fighting.
He stopped breathing and he tucked away a stray thread of hair that was covering part of her face. He was gentle and tender as he removed the stake from her side and he gripped it into his hand.
He could not understand why he was delaying the inevitable.
This was it. This was what he waited for a millennia for. Her death would be his rebirth. After her, the doppelganger would follow and his curse would be finally lifted.
Caroline looked at him and he felt as if he knew her. It was so strange. Time stopped around them.
He heard her sighing and her eyes filled with unshed tears.
She turned her head to the side and looked to her friend still trapped inside the circle of fire.
He could not believe his eyes when he saw Caroline smiling. A warm comforting smile that was meant to sooth Elena.
"Turn it off! Caroline just turn it off. You won't be scared anymore," Elena said to Caroline as tears fell from her face.
However, Caroline simply smiled and said,
"No."
She turned her face and looked at him. She was not afraid anymore. Her eyes were hard and her gaze unyielding. She had accepted her fate and she was about to go on her own terms.
She looked at him and he was impressed at the way she was looking death straight in the eye.
"If things were only different" he thought and he could not even understand why he even thought that.
He leaned down. His body slowly reaching and covering hers and he felt a warmth he had never felt before. He smiled. He was so close to everything he had ever wanted.
Caroline was just one more step closer to his goal and that was why he was feeling like this.
He drove the stake into her heart and she gasped but never stopped looking straight at him. Her eyes would forever haunt him, that much he knew.
He closed his eyes, unable for some reason to watch the light that fade from hers.
He let the stake go as if it was made from ice that froze his skin and turned him into a statue.
Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.
He stood up and looked at Caroline.
Her skin turned grey. Her life no more.
He stumbled back and Greta's voice reached his ears. The ritual was climaxing. All he needed to do was take Elena's life and all would be well.
His curse would be broken and he would stop feeling that weird terrifying emotion that seemed to be spreading inside him slowly and surely.
He tried to look at Greta. At the doppelganger. At the moon that was at its apex.
And yet somehow all he could see was Caroline.
He had killed her.
Caroline seemed to be bored and impatient as she sat next to him and looked straight at what he was looking at. Which was nothing.
"Mommy didn't love you. Daddy wanted you dead. Your real father probably didn't even want you, did he?" she taunted him and he tried to breathe in deeply as he bit into his arm and sucked his own blood. He was starving but no blood seemed to quench his thirst anymore.
Caroline laughed and she dipped her fingers into the gaping skin at the place where her heart once was and then she offered him her bloody fingers.
He looked at her horrified before he turned on his side and puked up his own blood.
She shrugged and sucked the blood from her finger and moaned as if it was the most tasty thing she ever indulged in.
"Your brothers never cared either, not really," she kept going, "and then there was sweet Rebekah. Sweet Rebekah, that always loved everyone else more than you," she teased him without relent.
"Tell me… love" she sneered and leaned over him and whispered in his ear as if they were conspiring together, "was there incest? I mean you did kill all her suitors and you seemed jealous of her…keeping her around all these centuries…and you know that the dagger is a phallic shaped weapon right?...come on spill! I am dying to know," she said and then her eyes went all wide and she started laughing uncontrollably.
"Get it?" she elbowed him, "Dying to know!" she said as she kept laughing at her own pun and Klaus closed his eyes in defeat.
"Come on sweetheart, why so glum?" her shrill tone reached his ears full of mockery and mirth.
She turned her body towards him and looked at him with eyes full of tenderness this time.
She caressed his face and he felt alive again.
"I am always part of you," she whispered.
He actually smiled at her and looked at her with hope.
"I was never yours," she said and shuttered all his hope. She squeezed his hands and stared at him intently, "but you are mine," she declared and he nodded.
It was pathetic, but it was true. He was hers. And she was not even there.
Caroline smiled at him and let go of his hands.
She got up and slowly went to the front of the window and looked outside. Her gaze was so lonely and eager that it broke his heart.
"You know, I still remember; I get flashes and images of who I used to be," she confessed reminiscing.
"So young, innocent and…naïve," she admitted and a tear fell from his face at the sound of her voice. She seemed to have no life in her anymore.
He had taken away her life a long time ago but even back then, even when he did it, she had not cowered in fear. She hadn't given up. And now it seemed as if she did. He made her quit. An eternity being his curse made her a pitiful shade of what and who she used to be.
"I could have had the world you know," she said and looked outside the window. His madness, her only gateway to life. His insanity, the only existence she could ever have. "Genuine beauty. I would travel and I would see strange cities with beautiful lights. Art, music, wonders. All would be mine."
Her sigh ended and she turned away from the window.
She approached him and sat on the floor again, right next to him.
"But now, I will see it through your eyes, I guess. It might be distorted somewhat, but, alas, it is forever. You and me, bonded, together, always and forever," she said and placed her hand over his own.
"Forever," he whispered, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips before she turned to ash and vanished into thin air, leaving him all alone.
He yelled in outrage and insufferable pain. She was not there. She never was. She was not there and she would never leave his side, while always reminding him that, in truth, he would forever be left behind. All alone. Without her.
His yells turned to screams and his screams to silence. And as he curled up in a ball down on the floor he simply waited for her voice to come back and haunt him. He was terrified and eager at the same time.
One of his faceless victims a long time ago had asked him one simple question before Klaus severed his head.
"You think you know what real torture feels like?"
Klaus had smirked back then, considering himself to be the master of pain. However, now he knew that no one could know what torture and anguish felt like unless they felt it themselves like a hot brand on their skin - one that tarnished the flesh, embarking into the heart and tearing the soul to shreds.
No.
He didn't know back then what real torture felt like.
But he did now.
.
.
.
I'm unclean, a libertine
And every time you vent your spleen,
I seem to lose the power of speech,
Your slipping slowly from my reach.
You grow me like an evergreen,
You never see the lonely me at all
Without you, I'm nothing.
Take the plan, spin it sideways.
Without you, I'm nothing at all.
.
.
.
Song lyrics: Without you I'm nothing by Placebo