Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.

Warning: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.

A/N: Hello, everyone! Okay, lately, I've been having, like, non-stop, compulsive thoughts about writing a Klaroline story, so I finally decided to write a story to save myself from my own self-inflicted insanity, and here is the first chapter of it. I really hope you enjoy it!

Chapter One

The young girl ran, screaming for help. Blood was trickling down her body, leaving a trail which was being followed. The howling kept getting closer, closer, and closer. Her legs began tingling with fatigue, her fear-induced adrenaline was quickly dissipating. Exhausted lungs burned in protest as she sped through the woods, now at a lower, pained pace, her feet barely skimming the surface as she attempted to flee. The heavy fog combined with the hot tears sprouting from her eyes reduced her visual acuity, but she was determined to escape from the monster that was hunting her. Blinking to refocus her vision, she could now make out the shape of the full moon, and a blur of bright, yet distant lights. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she finally realized she was getting close to a busy road. All she had to do was get to the road to get some help. She screamed again with renewed effort, wildly waving her arms above her head, praying someone would notice her.

Out of nowhere, something hit her right leg and knocked it out from under her. She went down hard, crashing into the ground, her arms poised in front of her to take the brunt of the impact, but the momentum was too much. She whimpered as she felt pain shooting up her leg. She tried getting up, but it was no use, her broken limb could not support her weight as it bent at an awkward angle. Collapsing to the ground, she began dragging her body on her elbows, ignoring the pain vibrating through her.

Behind her, she heard the growl of the enraged beast, a piercing sound alerting her of its nearness.

The girl continued to drag herself, despite the futility of it all.

Caroline, a silent spectator to the horrific scene unfolding before her, wanted to close her eyes, knowing that if she kept watching a scream would inevitably escape her mouth from the suspense of it all, but she was mesmerized. She tugged on her lower lip with her small, blunt teeth. She wanted the girl to live, to survive.

Get up. She whispered in her head, anxious that the girl was going to get killed by the monstrosity that was hunting her down.

Caroline bit her lip even harder as the werewolf finally pounced on the wounded girl, tearing into her neck with its razor sharp canines. She watched in dismay as the girl gurgled in her own blood, her arm outstretched, still trying to reach the road.

To her horror, the werewolf then began breaking off the dead girl's limbs and began gnawing on them.

Caroline's shoulders slumped, then her emerald eyes narrowed. Wow. They would kill off my favorite character, the only character that was actually interesting and-

Before Caroline could continue with her inner diatribe, a hand fell upon one of her shoulders from out of the darkness of the living room.

Caroline's eyes widened, and the scream that she was trying so desperately to suppress earlier finally ripped out of her throat. She jumped out of the couch, spilling tea everywhere. Scrambling, she grabbed the nearest weapon, which pathetically turned out to be the remote.

She tensed her body, prepared to lash out to the intruder or monster lurking in the dark.

The light that suddenly engulfed the living room, quickly revealed the owner of the hand that had touched her shoulder.

It wasn't an intruder and certainly not a monster.

A sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips, then heat rushed to her face as she realized she was holding the remote in front of her grandmother as it were some kind of deadly weapon. She felt and most likely looked ridiculous, judging from the way her grandmother was gawking at her.

"Are you alright?" questioned the familiar, gentle voice.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack", murmured Caroline, pressing a hand to her frantic heartbeat for emphasis, but nodding in reassurance.

She had been watching way too many scary movies today, all because of a silly bet she had made at work with one of her coworkers. He had, confidently, assumed that she lacked the courage to watch a Halloween marathon of horror flicks and had even called her a 'scaredy cat,' but she'd show him. When she saw him during work tomorrow, she was going to rub it in his stupid, yet very handsome face. She would just conveniently leave out the part about him being right in labeling her a scaredy cat.

Caroline rubbed her arms, trying to get rid of the goose bumps still lingering on her skin, cautiously walking toward her grandmother, trying not to alarm her.

Her grandmother smiled apologetically, then slightly frowned as she glanced at the television and took notice of what Caroline was watching.

"That's going to give you nightmares, Care," scolded her grandmother, disapproval evident in her brown eyes.

Caroline froze in place, then flashed a smile, her chest swelling with joy. Her grandmother recognized her!

"Gran, I'm an adult, almost 23 years old. Scary movies won't give me nightmares," she argued, hoping that her grandmother remembered her real age this time, instead of mistaking her for being a child like the last time.

Her grandmother gave her a disbelieving look, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Really? Those would've fooled me," teased the elder woman, referencing her granddaughter's pajamas.

Caroline took a peek down at her attire and laughed wholeheartedly. She had forgotten she was wearing her now tea-stained children's pajamas, too blinded by the happiness that her grandmother's moment of lucidity brought her.

"They're comfy," defended Caroline in a haughty voice, but she was still smiling.

It was true, she loved wearing children's pajamas, sometimes she even wore footwear designed for children, too. Most days she disliked being petite, but then she would remember that it was her small-frame that allowed her to wear the world's comfiest clothing.

"Well, I didn't mean to frighten you, sweetie, but your phone has been going off and I don't know how to make it stop," confessed her grandmother, leaning heavily on her cane as she gave Caroline her phone with a trembling hand.

Guilt tore at Caroline. The only reason she had refrained from yelling at the characters that kept inevitably dying in the movies she'd been watching on her day off was to allow her sick grandmother to get some rest, yet due to her own obliviousness her grandmother had to get out of bed to locate her.

She had made sure to be as quiet possible, keeping the volume very low on the television, knowing that after her grandmother had her weekly treatment she usually suffered a multitude of side effects. Including severe headaches that were worsened by noise, yet she had forgotten that she left her phone on full volume in her grandmother's room when she had gone in to give her, her lunch earlier. She mentally berated herself.

Stupid, stupid.

"Gran, I'm sorry, I forgot I left my phone in your room," said Caroline, her voice soft.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," replied the brown-eyed woman, waving off the apology with a forgiving smile.

"Let's get you back to bed, you need to rest," announced Caroline.

Her grandmother nodded, and accepted Caroline's steadying hand around her frail shoulders as she guided her back to the room.

Once she had her grandmother settled in bed, Caroline glanced at her phone. She had 9 missed calls, and 4 voicemails from work.

Weird.

Whenever she got a call from work, it was for her to go in earlier than scheduled, but she had never been called on one of her days off, let alone that many times within the span of 20 minutes. She chewed on her lip debating if she should call, wondering if something was wrong, then her phone decided for her as it rang.

"Hello?" she answered, picking up on the first ring.

She walked out into the hallway, not wanting to disturb her grandmother.

"Caroline! I've been trying to get a hold of you for at least an hour," growled her manager, his voice a bit muffled by the music playing in the background.

"It's my day off," curtly replied Caroline, looking at her grandmother from the doorway. She couldn't leave her grandmother unattended for too long while she was awake, she sometimes forgot where she was and panicked. The neighbor she normally paid to look after her while she went to work had a date today, but Caroline didn't mind looking after her beloved grandmother on her rest day, even while being exhausted.

"Not anymore," countered her manager in a biting tone.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"It means you need to come in today," he informed her irritably, his voice low and ominous.

"I can't go in tonight," nervously replied Caroline, starting to get a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had never heard him use that tone of voice with her, or with anyone else for that matter.

There was an exasperated sigh, and she could practically feel him scowling.

"Caroline, if you're not here in the next hour, you're fired," he snapped.

Her mouth went dry. He had never outright threatened to fire her before, he usually preferred more "subtle" threats.

"What do you-" she started, but was cut off abruptly.

There was a click and the call ended.

She cursed under her breath and proceeded to walk to her room to start getting ready. She'd have to find someone to watch over her grandmother, she couldn't leave her alone.

"It's quite cold in here, you should open a window," called out her grandmother from behind her.

Caroline whirled around to go look at her grandmother sitting up in bed, a dazed look in her eyes.

"If I open the window, it'll get colder," explained Caroline, knowing it was useless to argue with her grandmother when she got like this.

"Colder? Why would it get colder? It's the middle of the day," said her grandmother, confusion flickering in her eyes.

Caroline sighed and gently explained to her that it was autumn and that it was chilly outside because it was nighttime.

"Nonsense, Liz! It's the middle of summer, don't you see? Take a look," insisted the woman, pointing and staring at the window, completely oblivious to the full moon and the branches swaying in the cold wind.

The blonde felt her heart constrict, lately her grandmother's moments of lucidity were becoming more and more rare. She didn't know what image her grandmother wanted her to be able to see, but she decided to play along.

"I see, it is summer, mom," lied Caroline, her voice almost breaking.

. . .

Niklaus Mikaelson, quite possibly one of the most powerful creatures to date, did not like to be ignored. He was not used to it, especially by his own mother. How dare she summon him, ruin his plans for the evening, only to pretend as if he didn't exist?

He heaved a sigh of annoyance as he offhandedly scanned the faces of his siblings, and the rest of the vampires sitting next and across to him in the imposingly large mahogany table. He didn't know any of their identities, and truly didn't care to learn them, but deduced that introductions would soon be made if they were what his mother considered "important" enough to interact with his family. In his opinion, vampires outside of his family were not important. He even referred to them as "lesser vampires" because compared to his family, they couldn't be anything else but less. The only vampires who were exempt from the demeaning nickname, and the only ones he held some degree of respect for, were the enforcers, or perhaps it was simply some sort of twisted comradery as opposed to genuine respect. He was one of them, after all. The original enforcer.

Vampires, despite how young or old they may be, had to adhere to a certain set of ancient rules that his family, specifically his mother, had created to ensure the continuation of the species, or else suffer the consequences. Most vampires obeyed the rules, but lapses did occasionally occur. That's where the enforcers came in.

Those that took on the role of enforcers dedicated their lives into preserving the vampire race, they efficiently disposed of anything or anyone that threatened the species, mainly destroying rogue vampires, whilst managing to maintain a peaceful co-existence between vampires, werewolves, witches, and humans alike. They took many measures to ensure that humans merely viewed their existence as myths, absurdities, legends, creations of their drunken imagination.

Looking down at his hands, he almost chuckled at the irony of it all. Out of all his siblings, he had been the one that ended up with the emblematic garnet ring encircling his left middle finger. Who would have thought?

It was centuries ago, when vampires openly preyed on humans as if they were cattle that his mother advised him, and his siblings to dispose of the rebellious vampires that refused to feed inconspicuously and follow her rules, warning them of the inevitability of the human's retaliation. She constantly scolded them for their lack of action toward remedying the "dire" situation. They had all ignored their mother, with the exception of Finn, finding it amusing that she wanted them to enforce rules that they themselves constantly broke. Not to mention that the idea of being burdened by such a tedious responsibility didn't particularly appeal to any of them. So what if mortals knew of them? How were they, the first immortals, supposed to cower at the threat of uneducated, incompetent human mobs wielding pitchforks and holy items?

Humans were weak, while vampires were strong, his family even stronger, and he was the strongest. At first, his mother's concern over the humans posing a threat had seemed preposterous to him, laughable even.

Eventually his eldest brother, Finn, the cloying humanitarian of the Mikaelson family, had taken it upon himself to "teach" the rogue vampires how to feed without killing. In time even Elijah and Rebekah joined the cause and attempted to half-heartedly reform them. He and his younger brother Kol, however, were too busy enjoying traveling the world, womanizing, living freely, and never giving a second thought to their mother's plea.

During their travels was when they first heard the rumors of witches being burnt, of their persecution. News didn't travel very quickly back then, so to say that they were surprised once they learnt of the full extent of witch deaths was an understatement. The death toll was staggering. Witches were once plentiful, yet evidently only a few remained, strewn, living persecuted lives.

He had laughed at the news, given how much he disliked witches. They had fallen victims to humans. How pathetic. Kol, on the other hand, had not been as amused. His younger brother, for some reason unknown to him, seemed to like witches, despite the contempt they felt toward vampires and himself.

Then a few years later, the werewolf massacres started. This time his brother had laughed and celebrated with him. Werewolves were their enemies, even more so than witches. He, in particular, had a special hatred solely reserved for their breed.

As far as he was concerned it seemed as if the pesky humans were doing them a favor.

It was too late when he finally realized they should have listened to their mother. He, along with many others, never thought that the superior vampire race would be the next target, arrogantly thinking their kind too strong to fall prey to humans, nor that their natural enemies would eventually become their strongest allies. Mortals may have been weak, but they vastly outnumbered any supernatural race, and over time their methods of eradicating supernatural beings became increasingly efficient.

Klaus clenched his hands in fury, his pale eyes glittering dangerously as he reminisced. He now hated humans almost as much as he hated werewolves.

Resolutely, he switched his attention from his dark thoughts of the past back to his mother. She continued to ignore everyone at the table, too caught up in a conversation with two vampires.

Niklaus felt a renewed surge of annoyance, disliking how easily she disregarded his presence.

Letting out a long, calming breath, he focused on his mother's melodic voice with his heightened hearing. A slight smile formed on his naturally rose-colored lips, knowing she would undoubtedly have reprimanded him if she knew he was eavesdropping, but she was thankfully too occupied to notice.

He could hear her soft words, yet their sequencing made absolutely no sense. His smile faded. What was she discussing with the vampires? Glancing over at the duo in question, taking note of their garnet rings, confusion registered in his mind as he realized they were enforcers.

What were they doing here, unannounced, in his city?

Each enforcer was assigned a city to watch over, and depending on the populace, some larger cities required more than one enforcer. Bigger cities had more human prey, making them the most sought after hunting grounds for vampires. The more people, the higher the risk for exposure, especially with the popularity of advanced technology and media outlets. When an enforcer entered another's domain, they were expected to make their presence known, although that rarely happened in these modern times. It was too risky for an enforcer to leave their city unguarded. There was never a shortage of renegade, careless, or ignorant baby vampires to be dealt with.

He was the only enforcer that had the luxury of leaving his city whenever he pleased. Nobody dared to break the rules here. Only very rarely, in the past did he have to deal with uncooperative lesser vampires, but he had made proper examples out of them. Truth be told, he sometimes envied the other enforcers. Killing was fun, one of his favorite forms of entertainment, and they had a lot of killing to do, unlike him, which is why he sometimes went to random cities with his younger brother to help dispose of the "threats".

Niklaus often found himself craving for a resurgence of the olden days, days full of bloodshed, destruction, battles, and limitless death. A time when he could kill indiscriminately without having to concern himself with destroying the evidence of his fun. It was a pity humans had ruined that way of life.

Thinking about his glory days was doing nothing to lessen the hunger that had been clawing at him throughout the day. A need to kill and feed slowly began overwhelming him as his notoriously short patience dwindled even further.

His mother hadn't even spared him a glance.

"I fail to see why my presence is required here, mother," he interjected rudely, tapping his fingers on the table in frustration, hoping to gain her attention.

He grinned wolfishly as he noticed his mother's eyes narrow imperceptibly at his ill-mannered approach. Surely she would scold him for it, however, he was quickly disappointed to realize that she still didn't acknowledge him or any of her children, as she kept conversing with the two enforcers that now appeared to be nervous, pointing at documents, folders, an envelope, and what appeared to be a newspaper clipping strewn between them on the table. The rest of the vampires that were talking amongst themselves, glanced his way for a brief moment until he raised an eyebrow at them, daring them to say something. Once they looked at his ring they quickly avoided his gaze before returning to their conversations.

Cowards.

"Or mine," added Kol, grinning at his impatient, older brother.

Niklaus' stormy blue eyes met Kol's dark gaze, and he knew exactly what he was thinking. Tonight was supposed to the night they tested out a theory they had been wondering about since summer. Instead of sitting here, doing absolutely nothing, they could be elsewhere entertaining themselves. Killing something, having fun. His younger brother was the only one who enjoyed and partook in his hedonistic lifestyle. Prior to their mother's so called "urgent" call, they had been in the middle of a hunt. Kol had managed to feed a bit, but Klaus had not. His hunger only heightened his irritation.

"Be patient," said Elijah, the eldest and most reasonable of the siblings.

The brothers broke eye contact, to stare at their eldest brother. Elijah's words may have cautioned patience, but his face revealed that even he, too, was exhausted of waiting for his mother to properly address them.

Kol lifted his eyebrows at Elijah's facial expression, but remained silent and followed his brother's advice. Niklaus scoffed and disregarded his older sibling's words altogether.

"Well, as much as I might like to stay, I have pressing responsibilities I must attend to," he announced, intentionally scraping back his chair in a dramatic fashion and rising to his feet with such force that the lesser vampires in the rooms flinched. Knowing that his stunt had the desired effect pleased him immensely, but outwardly his features remained blank.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," spoke up Rebekah, his youngest sibling, momentarily pulling her gaze away from the ebony-haired vampire who had been shamelessly flirting with her for the last twenty minutes. Both Elijah and Kol glanced over at her, as if they had forgotten she was there. Niklaus, on the other hand, had been keenly aware of how uncharacteristically receptive his sister was being to the vampire's idiotic advancements.

Must have had a row with Stefan, again.

The source of his thoughts then began to speak and said, "If mother called us here, it's for a reason."

His sister sighed, tucking a light blonde strand behind her ear. "If only we knew what that reason was," she added.

Esther Mikaelson, Matriarch of the Mikaelson family, turned toward her audacious son, pinning him with a strict stare, then shook her head. "Sit down," she said softly. Her children were so impatient.

Niklaus' eyes narrowed, but he begrudgingly sat back down. His eyes then narrowed even further as he took notice of how his sister's newest interest crudely leered at her.

Due to his hybrid heritage, he had a very sharp, heightened sense of smell, one that allowed him to smell the dark-haired vampire's rapidly rising arousal. It was a pungent smell that made his nostrils flare in disgust.

The lascivious look had made Rebekah visibly uncomfortable, she strategically crossed her arms over her chest. She covered her discomfort with a wan smile, but he could see right through it.

Esther closed the folder she was looking over, and leant back in her chair, a frown marring her beautiful features.

"We have a problem," she finally said, her gaze lingering on each of her children, as she addressed everyone at the table.

"Duh," insulted the ebony-haired vampire in a resentful tone, rolling his eyes at the matriarch of the Mikaelson clan before winking back at Rebekah. It was obvious that he was trying to impress her.

Elijah quirked an eyebrow at the young vampire's rude remark.

Niklaus growled, a low, menacing sound that froze everyone into silence, everyone except the dark-haired vampire. He was too preoccupied trying to convince a reluctant Rebekah to go on a date with him to notice the mounting danger swirling around him.

Esther sighed wearily. "Niklaus," she warned quietly, staring directly at him.

Kol's eyes brightened in anticipation, fully aware of his brother's impulse.

Klaus ignored the warning flashing in his mother's deep, hazel eyes.

"Well, well," he commenced, addressing the impudent vampire, a charming smile plastered on his handsome face, "and who might you be?"

It was the abrupt, tension-filled silence that had befallen over the room that alerted the oblivious dark-haired vampire that something was off. A sudden feeling of apprehension churned in his belly, but he ignored it, too determined to impress the gorgeous blonde vampire he had been seducing for the last twenty minutes. It wasn't as if he were in any immediate peril, he was a valuable witness, after all. Much more valuable alive than dead, so to speak.

Looking over at the enforcer that was addressing him, he lifted his chin in defiance. His eyes inspected his features then. The dark-blond curls, high cheekbones, pale eyes, fair skin, and aristocratic nose. He was undeniably attractive, his face comparative to any angelic depiction found in many paintings, but there was something unnerving about his eyes. They were menacing and unblinking, seeming to have more commonality with a predatory animal, as opposed to an angel.

As the dark-haired vampire continued to gaze at him, his cold eyes appeared to change, brightening into a molten gold hue.

Flabbergasted, the vampire gasped, then blinked and found that he was still staring into a pair of blue-grey eyes that were now openly mocking him. Had he imagined it?

Movement caught his eye, shifting in his chair, he saw his friends turning to look at him as if he were crazy. He couldn't really blame them. In all of his vampiric life, he had never been so scared of an enforcer before, and he definitely didn't scare easily. This guy practically radiated danger, his unblinking eyes were extremely disturbing. He swallowed nervously, wishing he had kept his mouth shut, silently cursing his sharp-tongue and weakness for pretty girls.

"I'm waiting," pressed the blond enforcer, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He cleared his throat again, determined not to let his fear show.

"Zeke," he replied, his face a mask of impassivity, yet his voice quivered.

Niklaus' smile widened even further as the stench of fear replaced the vampire's arousal.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his glacial eyes fixed on Zeke.

Zeke's ebony eyebrows drew together in concentration, then he replayed the name the Mikaelson matriarch had previously mentioned over in his head and stiffened. Enlightenment quickly seeped into his mind. The yellow eyes now made sense, he hadn't imagined it.

"K-Klaus," stuttered the now terrified vampire, his eyes widening in recognition.

"In the flesh," confirmed Niklaus, his pleasant smile fading, twisting into an evil smirk. His ghostly blue eyes began glowing amber, darkened veins appearing underneath them.

"Niklaus-" began repeating his mother, but it was too late.

A gust of wind and the dark-haired vampire never saw Klaus move, but he felt something tear at his neck, viciously ripping through flesh and muscle. He screamed in pain as his jugular become exposed. Blood began spurting from the ugly wound, and Klaus leant into him, feasting on his bleeding neck. He greedily drank, holding the vampire like a rag doll, supporting his weight with a single, clawed hand dug deep into the back of his neck.

Once he had his fill, he easily ripped the man's head from his shoulders, carelessly dropping the headless body to the floor with a loud thud. The head rolled noisily, leaving a crimson trail behind, and landed close to his sister's feet.

He licked his ruby lips, and turned to his mother while his gleaming golden eyes and lengthened incisors were still visible. A trickle of blood dripped down his chin, staining the front of his grey shirt.

"Yes, mother?" he asked, feigning innocence. His gentle tone was at complete odds with his currently monstrous, hybrid image.

Esther didn't answer, merely gave him a pointed look. She didn't even flicker an eyelash at her son's brutality, having grown desensitized to it throughout the long centuries, at one point even encouraging it. Any other given day, she would have given her son an earful, but right now they had bigger problems than her incorrigible son's lack of manners to worry about.

Niklaus looked around the table, he spread his arms out in invitation, "Is there anyone else that would like to say something?"

A few vampires gulped, and kept their gazes carefully averted from the unpredictable enforcer. It was difficult to predict what was going through his twisted mind; his delicate features were calm, but his yellow eyes were eerily wild. It made everyone, aside from his family, very wary.

Most of them had no idea they had been in the presence of the hybrid. Every supernatural creature had heard of the frightening rumors about him, of his cruelty and complete lack of remorse. Of the fact that he exclusively drank from vampires, despite the taboo surrounding the act. Some even thought his existence was a myth, so great was his power that it seemed unrealistic.

To the supernatural community, he was their version of the devil.

The fear in the room was palpable, and Klaus was enjoying it.

His blood-stained lips then curved into a taunting smirk, "Didn't think so."

Niklaus barely spared his sister a glance for what he had done. A few droplets of blood had splattered on her face. She looked horrified. Her perfectly painted lips formed a comical 'O' as she looked down at the pooling blood and head that lay at her feet.

"Rebekah, love, close your mouth," taunted Niklaus. He smirked as his sister promptly shut her mouth, and raised her bright blue eyes to glare at him.

"You ruined my new shoes!" Rebekah screeched, finally finding her voice.

He rolled his eyes, leave it to his sister to be more appalled by the ruination of her shoes rather than by a mutilated corpse.

"They were hideous to begin with," Niklaus replied. He was feeling less agitated now, his hunger satiated. He had been itching to kill something ever since his hunt had been disrupted earlier.

Kol twisted around in his seat to get a better look at the discarded head, "Bravo!" he praised, approving of his brother's actions. He suddenly became aware of his mother's eyes on his form. "I mean… Poor lad. Didn't deserve it," he corrected, mock sincerity lacing his tone. His eyes still glinting mischievously.

"Here," said Elijah, offering his handkerchief to his sister, attempting to suppress the slight smile tugging at his lips. Yes, Niklaus' mannerisms were atrocious, something that had not changed over the centuries even with his best efforts to refine them, but something else hadn't changed with them. His love and loyalty toward his mother and siblings. Cruel and as heartless as his little brother liked to appear to others, he still cared deeply for his family, even with their constant bickering. A small fact that pleased Elijah immensely.

Esther drew in a relaxing breath and then calmly began passing out folders to the vampires at the table, once again shaking her head in disapproval while doing so. She loved her children above anything, but sometimes their mannerisms or lack thereof were comparative to that of animals. One would think centuries of existence would teach them patience and control over their impulses.

"What did you mean by problem?" asked a curious Elijah, glancing at the folders. His mother seemed unusually tense.

Esther evaded the direct question.

"Does everyone have a folder?" she questioned, her voice taking a commanding, business-like tone that all her children were intimately familiar with.

Elijah frowned, whatever their mother was keeping from them must be serious. That tone never meant anything good.

Niklaus plopped back down on his richly upholstered boudoir chair, staring at the folder now in front of him. He looked down at his hands which were still sticky and bloody.

He motioned one of the servants in the room to bring him a serviette before focusing his attention back to his mother.

Esther proceeded to slide a newspaper article in the middle of the table and pointed at it with her index finger.

"That is what I meant," she explained, locking eyes with her eldest son, Elijah, for a moment before looking at everyone else, urging them to take a closer look.

Niklaus finished wiping his hands and quickly read over the headline: Bizarre Ritual Murders? Child Slayer Still At Large

He saw the picture of a little boy's face, couldn't be more than 9. He looked serene. Eyes closed as if he were sleeping, but the caption below divulged that the only type of sleeping this boy was doing was eternal. Most recent victim; Body unidentified.

His stormy blue eyes quickly scanned the rest of the article. He even read it twice to get the facts right. A boy had been murdered in Merriam, Kansas about four months ago, a girl in Maryville, Tennessee the following month. Two more boys in Savannah, Georgia since last month, and now another one in Staunton, Virginia. The last murder victim was found yesterday.

The murders were gruesome, following the same grisly pattern. The assumed ages ranged from 8 to 10. All of the children's bodies remained unidentified, found inexplicably dressed in over-sized, adult clothing. They were stabbed, bludgeoned, and had their throats slit. Organs were apparently missing, but the article didn't specify which ones.

Niklaus' brows knitted together in confusion.

They didn't appear to be vampire victims, the article said nothing of exsanguination. If they were vampire kills, the enforcers of their corresponding cities should have taken care of it already, long before they had become a sensational story for humans.

A noise that suspiciously sounded like a sniffle caught his attention.

Surveying the table, he watched as Rebekah bit the inside of her lip and tried to blink away tears. Her emotions were always so easily readable on her face, like an open book. She always did have a soft spot for children. Elijah's lips were pressed into a thin line, and Kol merely looked bored.

"Did vampires do this?" he asked, perplexed. None of the details indicated toward a vampiric force being involved.

"No, humans did," denied his mother, an unreadable expression on her face as she locked eyes with him.

His eyes blazed with anger.

"So this is it? This is why you have called us? To discuss humans killing humans. Humans die all the bloody time," he snapped, surprising himself for being so short with his mother.

He was cross to have wasted so much time already on such a trivial matter.

"Open the folders," commanded Esther to everyone, disregarding her son's foul temper.

They all complied.

Niklaus opened his folder with exasperated force. It was, unsurprisingly, full of copies of crime scenes, autopsy reports, notes, and autopsy photos. The children in the pictures seemed to match the description of the details in the newspaper, except they revealed the children had rosaries planted post-mortem, into their hands, making it seem as if they were permanently praying. Hearts and tongues were missing, but most bizarrely of all, they had the word "demon" crudely carved into their small backs.

He had to admit, some of the details were repugnant and puzzling, but not enough to intrigue him or evoke some sort of pitying reaction. Throughout the centuries he had seen many more sickening, perplexing atrocities committed by mortals in the name of religion. This was next to nothing compared to the horrors he had been a witness to, or a creator of during his life.

Why should he and his family care about these ritualistic human deaths? Deranged mortals were always a problematic constant in the human world, just as rogues were in theirs, but the humans had their own inferior, less efficient versions of enforcers to take care of them.

Also, it wasn't as if there was a shortage of humans, they all knew that. Vampire sustenance was not on the verge of extinction. Prey was more than abundant.

"How does this concern us?" drawled Kol, voicing his thoughts, a quizzical look on his face as he finished browsing through the copies. He neatly shoved them back into the folder, raising it for emphasis and continued, "This is a mortal problem."

Klaus looked over at his brother, silently agreeing with him before he resumed flicking through the remainder of the photos. One or two of the victims seemed vaguely familiar, but he had been around long enough to know that many humans shared similar physical characteristics without being directly related. It was also equally probable that they were descendants from some of the vampires he had met throughout the centuries. Either way, the victims were still human, therefore unworthy of his concern.

"This is not a mortal problem, it is ours," briskly insisted their mother, her voice now stern as she gazed down at a large, brown clasp envelope firmly placed in her hands.

"How so?" challenged Klaus, even though deep down he was getting an uneasy feeling he couldn't quite shake.

"Because it involves your… brother," answered Esther, taut with emotion. It had been decades since her son decided to end his life, but she still couldn't talk about it without feeling devastated.

"Finn?" gently probed Rebekah, seeking confirmation.

Esther curtly nodded, opening the clasp folder with care, pulling out a photo.

"Finn is dead," replied Kol, his usually mirthful dark eyes softening. He knew how much Finn's death had hurt his mother. Everyone had felt the loss, but none so keenly as her.

Esther slid the photo to the middle of the table, next to the newspaper clipping, shocking her children into silence.

It was a picture of a vandalized cemetery, the very same cemetery Finn had instructed his family to bury him in after he had taken his own life about half a century ago.

Elijah reached out and slowly picked up the picture, tilting his head inquisitively, and eyes hardening with contempt.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he ventured, closely scrutinizing seasonal details of the photo. The surrounding trees were a vibrant green, and full of life. The sun a radiant, golden sphere, its rays of light shining a kaleidoscope of colors on the grass floor and on a familiar, unearthed coffin. A stark contrast to the autumn-filled scenery that had greeted him and his sister a day ago.

They had gone and visited their brother's grave just yesterday, and as far as they were concerned, the grave site was undisturbed and Finn's coffin was still buried.

"This doesn't make any sense," added Rebekah, her blonde hair shielding her face like a curtain as she leaned closer to Elijah, staring at the picture. She then looked up into her eldest brother's eyes, communicating her own disbelief.

"That's not real," said Kol, eyes widening, gesturing toward the photograph.

"I'm afraid it is," replied Esther, "I sent a team to confirm it. Your brother's coffin was still there when they dug up his grave, but his body is missing."

Niklaus went still as rage welled up inside him. For the last few months, maybe even years he and his family had been apparently paying respect to an empty coffin. Someone had tricked them and now they were bragging about it. Whoever did this had just condemned themselves to death, a slow, torturous death.

"Why would anyone steal his body?" he demanded, his mind in overdrive searching for a valid reason.

Ransom.

It was the only plausible explanation his fury-clouded mind could come up. Someone must have stolen his brother's body and was now expecting his family to pay them money or give them something in exchange for its safe return. Klaus' eyes darkened at the thought. Nobody, absolutely nobody, messed with his family and got away with it.

"We have reason to believe his remains were used in creating the corrupted cure, sir," informed one of the enforcers.

Klaus blinked, shocked, as the words registered in his mind.

Corrupted cure? What the hell?

The thought of his brother's remains being used in anything made his blood boil.

"Who the devil are you? He snapped, turning to face the enforcer who had unwittingly made himself the target of his hostility.

"I am Charles, enforcer of Norfolk, Virginia, sir," replied the enforcer, his head bowing slightly in deference. He gave Esther a brief concerned glance, fearing becoming the intimidating hybrid's next meal.

Esther's warm eyes caught the enforcer's frightened look, she turned to her angry son. "They," she chided, pointing to the Charles and the other enforcer, "were the ones that found the witnesses and brought them to me."

Klaus had no idea what his mother was talking about, but he stopped glaring at the Norfolk enforcer, knowing his mother was subtly telling him to play nice.

"The corrupted cure?" parroted Kol aloud, his voice heavily tinged with skepticism. The cure was gone, Finn had seen to that when he drank it, in hopes of becoming mortal. Unfortunately, since they were never human to begin with, the cure hadn't done a damn thing to Finn, except cause him to writhe in agony for a couple of hours. No cure remained, corrupted or otherwise.

Kol's hands fisted in anger thinking about his brother's senseless suicide.

The enforcer merely nodded at Kol, and refocused his attention back to the Mikaelson matriarch as she pulled a leather drawstring pouch out of the clasp envelope.

Esther quickly opened it and gently began pulling out what appeared to be rings. Not just any rings, garnet rings.

Niklaus stared at the jewelry, baffled. Emblematic garnet rings that enforcers wore were difficult to come across, especially since said rings enhanced a vampire's abilities. The rings commanded respect and sparked fear in the vampire community, so it was very unlikely that an enforcer would willingly give up their ring, which only meant one thing. The owners of those rings were most likely dead.

"Where did you get those?" he inquired quietly, suddenly feeling dejected.

His mother met his gaze for a moment, knowing how much esteem he held for his fellow enforcers, before resuming her task.

"They were sent to me this morning, along with the picture," answered Esther.

"By whom?" he asked, pressing for more information.

There was a pause as Esther debated on how to best answer the question.

"I don't know," she finally answered as honestly as she could, her voice stiff. It was true, she didn't know who it was that sent her the taunting information, directly threatening her species and beloved children, but she was determined to find out.

"What do you-"Klaus started, but was stopped when his mother held up a silencing hand as she took a deep stabilizing breath, then began addressing the whole table with unwavering authority hardening her usually soft voice into iron.

"There are a group of humans that have been hunting and killing vampires for months, undetected until now. They have somehow managed to create a concoction, a corrupted version of the cure which "cures" vampirism by temporarily reversing age. It reverts a vampire back to a younger age, an age in which they were still human," said Esther, her voice was calm, almost as if she were talking about the weather instead of a potentially catastrophic threat to the vampire race.

The sudden silence that followed did not surprise her, she had expected as much.

She noticed as her children sat up straighter, now giving her their undivided attention, their expressions flickering between uncertainty, disbelief, and shock.

Klaus looked down at the autopsy reports and photos, and then it hit him. Vampires. Some of the victims were enforcers, which explained the discarded rings and why some of them had seemed so familiar. It also explained the victims' over-sized clothing and unknown identities.

"Bloody Hell," whispered Kol, also coming to the same conclusion as Klaus.

After giving them some time to digest the shocking revelation, Esther continued, "Those child victims you see before you were once vampires, enforcers to be exact. As of right now, only enforcers seem to be the targets. We currently have no solid leads, but we do have witnesses."

Niklaus watched, curious, as she gestured toward the rest of the nearly forgotten lesser vampires in the room.

What were they witnesses to?

"They seem to be religiously motivated and think it is their holy mission to kill us all," said the Mikaelson matriarch, gesturing toward Elijah to hand her the cemetery picture.

Securing the photo in her grasp with numb fingers, Esther flipped it over, holding it up high enough for everyone to read the scribbled note on the back of it.

Niklaus' eyes narrowed into slits as they zeroed in on the messy writing.

"That sounds religiously motivated to me," observed Kol, reading over the note with a scowl on his face, "although they're wrong on the demon part."

"Why are they only after enforcers? Do these humans not know what they do for their pathetic lives? That they are the ones that protect mankind from being reduced to cattle?" asked Rebekah after a long moment of silence, her voice practically dripping venom.

Her longtime unofficial boyfriend, Stefan, was an enforcer. The idea of him suffering a similar fate made her skin crawl.

Klaus briefly glanced over at his sister, knowing she was thinking about their mutual friend, and her lover, Stefan.

"That still remains a mystery," replied their mother.

"Are you positive humans did this?'" Klaus asked, a bit dubious, despite the surmounting evidence.

"Yes, I already compelled the witnesses to make sure, and the bodies of the victims are riddled with human prints, no indication of witchcraft is present on any of them. The wounds were made with a screwdriver, and various knives," confirmed Esther.

Because of their genetic adermatoglyphia, everyone at the table dismissed the notion of werewolves being involved when they heard about the prints. Witches were not fond of killing humans, let alone torturing them, however, on the strange occasion that they did kill a mortal, their magic always left a residual telltale sign clearly visible to supernatural creatures.

"Witches would not risk another war. Their numbers are low enough as it is. It makes sense for them to aid us, not try eliminate us," rationalized Elijah.

Esther nodded in agreement to her son's astute observation. He was right, as much as they disliked it, the supernatural races had to stick together to survive.

"A screwdriver and knives? Typical. It definitely sounds like a human's handiwork to me. That's the problem with people today, they have no imagination when it comes to torture," voiced Kol, scoffing, while glancing at Niklaus.

Niklaus looked up from inspecting the crime scene photos and autopsy reports when he felt someone's eyes on his form.

Ghostly blue crashed with espresso brown as the brother's locked eyes and shared an understanding look. When it came to torture, they had quite the imagination. Even after centuries of doing it, they always found new, exciting methods to torture their victims into insanity before disposing of them. Their intended plan for the evening was a testament to their creative cruelty.

"Humans. It's a group, Kol," corrected Elijah, his brows furrowing in displeasure at his younger brother's lack of seriousness. He clearly did not seem the grasp the gravity of the situation at hand.

Kol shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

"I need to send in the envelope, rings and photograph to a forensic laboratory to be properly analyzed to confirm if they have prints on them. The envelope, in particular, has a strong lingering human scent on it. I'm certain if it does have prints, they will be a match to those found on the bodies. The FBI has been unable to find anyone in their databases that match the prints, so I doubt we will fare any better," informed their mother, delicately sniffing the envelope.

"But if they aren't a match and have different prints on them, we might be able to get hit on the AFIS," added an optimistic Rebekah, regarding the rings with a pensive look on her face.

"Hmm, I suppose it's possible," replied Esther, her doubt audible.

Tearing his gaze away from his brother, Klaus resumed browsing through the photos and reports.

He was aware of his mother's thoroughness and of the fact that she had many vampires infiltrating law enforcement throughout the country, but he still was hoping to find some sort of hidden detail she had overlooked pointing toward another supernatural creature's culpability in the murders, and was unsuccessful in doing so.

Damn it.

Humans were hunting them, again.

As much as he hated to admit it, humans were their biggest threat. Hell, they knew from personal experience that mortals could beat them with sheer numbers alone.

They weren't even hunting lesser vampires, they were going after the strongest, most vital members of their community. Enforcers maintained balance, if rogue vampires found out about the absence of their punishing force in certain cities, it wouldn't be long before they took advantage, killing without discretion, inevitably leading to many exsanguinated bodies being found.

With the rise of vampire media, it wouldn't take much to convince mortals that they walked among them, threatening the existence of mankind. It would be chaos. Worst of all, these vampire hunters appeared to know too much about vampires, if they gathered enough evidence they could eventually expose them if they weren't properly taken care of.

"We need to find them," he decreed, his lips compressed into a thin line.

"I know, and we will find them before they expose us," his mother replied, seemingly picking up on his inner thoughts.

"Do the witnesses still have their memories intact?" asked Klaus, eyeing the three lesser vampires with curiosity.

They shifted uncomfortably under his ghostly gaze.

"I haven't erased them, and yes you may compel them to give you some insight on what it is you are hunting," answered Esther, fully aware of what her son was indirectly asking her.

"I'll tell you everything I know if you don't kill me," shakily implored one of the witnesses, flinching in fear from Klaus' eager gaze, terrified of what he would do to him.

Klaus chuckled, clearly amused, relishing the helpless fear shinning in the lesser vampire's eyes.

"Or I could just compel you and then kill you," he said, a wolfish smile that didn't quite reach his cold eyes playing on his face.

"Please, please don't kill me," begged the frightened vampire, wildly scanning around him to see if anyone would help him. Much to his dismay, nobody said anything, they just kept watching, even his friends were keeping their eyes averted from him, refusing to meet his pleading gaze.

"Tell me everything you know, what you saw," commanded Klaus, disregarding the vampire's whimpering, his hypnotizing blue-grey eyes dilating as they bore into his fearful eyes.

"My friends and I were hunting for hitchhikers in the woods near Staunton when we smelt blood coming from an old, hidden cabin. There were three humans torturing a kid with a screwdriver, stabbing him all over. There was so much blood. It smelled so sweet, so good. We were planning on draining them all, and I was planning on keeping the boy to myself, but they shot us with a tranquilizer gun before we could do much. Zeke was the only that got close enough to break one of the human's arm, but then he got tranquilized too. We were in a ton of pain, so much that we blacked out. When we woke the next day we were on a beach, in the middle of the day. The sun wasn't burning us and we were children again, but the pain was still there. It was agony. After a while, we started noticing that we were slowly aging and the pain was fading. We all stopped eventually aging when reached the age we were turned at. Then the hunger started. I never felt hunger like that in my entire life. It was like being a vampire baby all over again, but worse, so much worse. We killed about ten people before those two enforcers there stopped us and brought us here, then that lady there interrogated us and compelled us not to kill any-"

"That's enough," cut in Klaus, leaning back into his chair and running an agitated hand through his blond curls, absorbing the information.

The vampire blinked, his hazy mind slowly clearing. His eyes widened once he realized that he had been compelled.

"Did you take care of the bodies?" Klaus asked, facing the two enforcers.

"We did, but we did not have time to find the cabin. Our hands were full trying to restrain the witnesses. They were practically feral," admitted Charles, looking sheepish. The other enforcer's face held a similar expression.

Esther cleared her throat, attempting to regain everyone's attention.

"You both did well," complimented Klaus, giving the enforcers an appreciative nod before turning back to his mother.

Esther began giving out orders.

Kol looked over at his mother, already knowing what she would instruct him to do. "I can go look for the cabin," he hastily volunteered.

"No, I'll look for the cabin, "objected Rebekah, a hopeful gleam in her eye as she tried bribing her mother with a brilliant smile. Stefan lived close to where the witnesses claimed to have seen the cabin, and even though she was upset with him, her concern for him overpowered her anger.

"No, Niklaus will go look for the cabin. Kol, you'll do damage control," informed their mother.

Kol groaned in dismay. "I always do damage control," he complained.

"Then you should be used to it by now," rebuked his mother, her voice exaggeratedly sweet.

Kol merely rolled his eyes at his mother's teasing.

"Why can't I look for the cabin?" whined Rebekah, her radiant smile fading into a pout.

"Because your brother is an enforcer, and the best tracker we have," explained Esther.

Klaus smirked at Rebekah, feeling smug. "Don't worry, little sister. I'll give him your regards."

"Burn in Hell," said Rebekah, glaring at her older brother, knowing exactly whom he was referring to.

Klaus' grin widened even further.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!