|
03/24/2020 09:42 PM
 |
Little Tin God
Little Tin God Rembrandt/ 1593610 Crumpsall Manchester, 1880
The deplorable conditions were everywhere. The stench of poverty filled the air like a stream of putrid filth from the lowest depths of hell itself. Men, women and children had nowhere to go. The Industrial Revolution too place in the heart of the greatest empire on the planet. The crown of the British Empire was rotten at its core. Progress was a foul beast in moving from an agrarian society to something more urban
Standing outside the gates of the Crumpsall Workhouse was a man of means with a rather expensive suit upon his lanky frame. He was not here on holiday. He was here to decide if business in Manchester was a worthwhile venture. Stern azure hues focused upon this smoky building and the poor condition from the outside. “Mr. Mikaelson come this way please.” At the mention of his name, his head turned. He was being invited inside this very representation of hell on Earth.
Following behind his escort Niklaus Mikaelson paid particular attention to the humans inside. The man was droning on and on about the numbers of people that were here and provided for by the Crown. Labor was profitable in the eyes of this capitalist. Klaus liked profit in order to care for his family. Being immortal meant that you had learned much from everything around him. Humans were far more monstrous at times than even he was. The horrendous practice of slavery had just been abolished back in the States some twenty years prior. The British Crown had their own version of it here before him and they called it welfare for the poor. All he saw was heartbreak.
Klaus had decided to go to England while Elijah had traveled to Germany to pursue leads there for their family. What precisely his elder brother did to pursue said ventures was of no consequence to him as they had entrusted their home in New Orleans to trusted Madeleana to be watched over in their absence. They would meet again in a month or so as their traveling had been done. For now, Klaus’ stop at the Workhouse was something he’d never forget.
Ahead of them was what was the bathing house, or the intake room for the poor. Klaus watched this particular family enter together. The mother held on desperately to her baby that Klaus figured to be about 4 years old screaming his name as he was being drug away to another section of the workhouse. “What’s going on here?” Klaus demanded of his escort.
The man looked down his nose at the display in front of him. “Nothing important, Sir. You needn’t worry about these insignificant little gits.” He tried his best to lead Klaus away from this scene that actually meant something to Klaus. The man had no idea that Klaus had a soft spot for children.
This angered Klaus. He watched as the tiny child with inky black hair and sad brown eyes desperately reached for the woman who was frantically screaming her son’s name. He grabbed the man’s arm and spoke calmly. Blue eyes glittered amber with black veins darkening around his eyes. His fangs that were not a vampire's fangs also elongated. The Original had the power of compulsion on his side. “Tell me what is going on, NOW!” He growled.
With a blank expression, the man gave Klaus his answer. “The boy is four. Only children under the age of two are permitted to stay with their parents.” Klaus held onto the man for a moment longer. The mother’s desperate pleas rang in Klaus’ ears. The name of her child was not forgotten by him that day. “LORENZO!” Later that day, the director of the Workhouse was found dead outside the gates. It looked as though he’d been mauled by an animal.
heading for San Francisco, CA
16 April 1906
Every so often, Niklaus Mikaelson had a desire to go off by himself. It wasn’t because of any particular reason, or so he told himself even though he knew he had to protect his family in case of Mikael’s rampage. Klaus had paid particular attention to the golden promised land that had once belonged to the Spanish. The expansion into California was something he’d been aware of for a few years now. California was still somewhat rugged, so he headed there himself to see it first hand.
Personally he felt it wise to expand the assets for his family by business ventures in other free market areas. Coming out to California meant Klaus had a financial venture he was pursuing out in this area. His surrogate mother Madeleana had told him how fertile the land was out in the northern Bay area near San Francisco. Buying land out here to establish a winery was the objective. The grape had been a friend to man and vampires for centuries. Klaus was going to set about this venture with grand notions about what was to come. He boarded a train from New Orleans and headed west.
Klaus took his seat in his private car on board the train. Given that he was an Original Vampire, he did need his privacy. The steward loaded a trunk of his into the baggage area even as Klaus was being seated. He was dressed in a suit similar to the one that he’d worn on a business trip to Manchester 26 years earlier. There was no one around that would recall his look or what his demeanor was that day. Klaus had never forgotten little Lorenzo. He wondered often if the lad had made it to adulthood. He’d heard later than consumption had ravaged England with brutal aggression later in the following decades.
Klaus leaned back in his private car. It was going to take two days to get to these vineyards he was looking to purchase. He knew how to keep a low profile. He had every intention to do so and still eat as was the need for any vampire. Blonde curls sat neatly upon his head and blue eyes closed. A little nap never hurt anyone.
|
|
|
03/23/2020 12:13 PM
|
The Hunt : TW Gore
The Hunt. Rembrandt/ 1593610 The early spring weather of Mystic Falls was glorious. The streets of the town that had its history in the folklore associated with the American Civil War. Not many knew however that the history of this place had actually gone back one thousand years prior. The property that had once belonged to the Lockwood Family had reverted in trust to the Salvatore Boarding School. A request came to Caroline Forbes Salvatore to have permission to explore the grounds for historical purposes to be able to have the area deemed a site to be historically preserved. This was a request that she approved without even realizing what would come from it.
It was a team from the Armory that were given the task to explore the cave system below the Lockwood Property. The man who lead this exploration was a man barely 30 years old with an impressive resume from Whitmore College. His name was Sawyer Campbell. He had soft brown hair that was shoulder length and a pair of glasses that kept slipping down his nose every time he turned his head. Dr. Campbell was a brilliant young man with eyes full of wonder and a grand vision of what treasures that may lay beneath the surface of the grounds of The Lockwood Estate.
It was already a part of the historical data base at The Armory that there was a Viking Cave on the grounds of the Lockwood Estate. Sawyer wanted to see this first hand for himself. The whole idea that there was a whole civilization that lived here way before recorded history in the area intrigued him to no end. He was standing inside the cave itself holding a light to the drawing on the wall.
The entire scene revolved around a giant tree that Sawyer determined to be a White Oak. White Oak was a rarity in this particular area of Virginia, so that caught his attention off the bat. Being an expert in Viking Runes, he began to read the names. “Finn… Elijah… Niklaus… Kol… Rebekah…” The man read aloud. “Odd names for Monsters…” He pondered aloud.
“Not if you particularly think about it mate.” The voice of the man in the cave was something that Sawyer had not imagined hearing. “Monsters come in all shapes and sizes…” Sawyer’s light immediately shined in the direction of the voice.
A slender man with golden curls was leaning against the cave walls. Despite the weather being a bit more winter than spring at the moment, the man’s attire were to assume that he was unaffected by the light twinge of cold in the air. “You know what I do love about getting certain sites declared as Historical Landmarks?” He took a step into the cave with a smile on his face. “Public property doesn’t keep me held back whatsoever.” The man’s normally sweet blue eyes had now turned golden and black. Fangs protruded as his mouth opened wide. This was the face of a monster.
Poor Sawyer had no chance. The monster buried his fangs so viciously into the man’s throat that the blood of the academic spewed forth from the attack and coated that same rune that had contained the name of the monster. That rune was the word Niklaus. With vermillion fluid coating his lips and his chin, the excess dribbled off into the dirt. The brutality in which the Original Hybrid used in murdering this innocent scholar was something he’d not used in several hundred years. In his hands was the severed head of the man that had only one simple crime. He was human.
Rage filled the entire countenance of Klaus Mikaelson. He’d returned to Mystic Falls after having been saved from death at his own hand because of the Hollow. For a while now he’d been living back at the home where he’d purchased it for his family several decades ago in the early 2010s. He’d been in peaceful co-existence with all around him including spending time with the love of his life, Caroline. They were even planning to marry soon. Something terribly wrong had happened. But what?
The Original Hybrid used his vampire speed to zip out of the cave and back up to the surface. Entering the Lockwood mansion itself, the graduate students all on this project were like lambs and Klaus was the Big Bad Wolf. The first one was a young lady that the misfortune of being too close to the door. Her blonde hair and blue eyes did not stop him or appeal to any remote shred of humanity within him, because none existed. The fangs of a hybrid had been carved into the wall of the cave below them. They were far more fear inducing especially when they were being forced onto the sensitive flesh of a human neck. He bit down hard and ripped violently with a jerk of his head to the right. The tearing of the flesh followed by the exsanguinations of the body left a pool of blood that covered Klaus’ boots to the ankle. The body twitched violently in his hand in its death throes. The evacuation of the body’s bowels left that malodorous stench of feces and urine behind mixed with the copper fragrance of the blood only excited Klaus. He dropped her unceremoniously into the pool of blood and her own bodily fluids to die not only brutally but with no respect due to her.
There were others that had managed to escape the Lockwood Estate slaughter to run with the delicious smell of fear calling to him. Klaus knew he was faster than any of them ever hoped to be. He took off after the slowest one and found him. He was a young man who was a first year grad student with brown hair and brown eyes. His skin color was the same color as the hot chocolate that Hayley used to make for Hope when the young tribrid was only eight years old. Klaus didn’t even bother trying to rip this one’s throat out of his body. He reached out with a mighty swing lopping his head from his shoulders. The young man’s rosary beads fell to the ground as his body fell lifeless to the ground.
Klaus stood over the body of the young man in the forest with both fists clenched. A very primal growl tore though the air. Klaus Mikaelson had turned off his humanity.
The human race was doomed.
|
|
|
03/20/2020 12:23 PM
|
The Journey
The Journey Rembrandt/ 1593610 995 AD, Mystic Falls
The peaceful Viking settlement that was carved out of a slice of the wilderness of the land beyond the sun was actually buzzing around like a beehive. The preparations were in place for a grand celebration. The hogs were being slaughtered. Grain was being pounded to form wheat in order to bake bread. The finest mead was being prepared. The most perfect animals were being slaughtered in sacrifice to Ullr, the god of hunting. It was a tremendous moment was happening in the house of Mikael. He had yet another son that had reached that critical age of 16. Niklaus had now seen his 16th summer.
Esther was in the slaughterhouse doing her part. Even though Rebekah was but a child herself, she was doing whatever her mother assigned her. Kol was left to his own devices for the moment. Each member of Mikael’s house had a role to play in the celebration of Niklaus’ passage from a child into a man. Even Mikael who had notoriously beaten the boy was surprised that he’d actually lived this long. He was taking some kudos from other members of the village because he was man enough to have three grown sons now. A question remained. Where was Niklaus?
There was a quiet little corner of the wilderness that he often retreated to when he needed to escape the rage of his father. Niklaus had a canvas stretched upon an easel made from pieces of the Great White Oak. This place in which he called his sanctuary was in the shadow of the Pale Mother’s cottage. He felt he was safe here. He always knew he was safe here.
He was not a warlock like his brother Finn. He was not a warrior like his brother Elijah. Niklaus wasn’t sure which role that he’d be called upon to fulfill as he completed his official ascension into manhood. He had been quite skilled with a sword. He and Elijah often sparred generally while Mikael was away. It was the only time he felt like he was truly free. He found that painting was something similar to him, but with painting there was an extra added measure. While Elijah was gifted with the sword, it had taken Klaus a few years and repeated practice to be able to hold his own against his brother. Painting wasn’t like that. When he painted, it was his creation. It was his world. He was in control.
He had started painting when he was only eight years old. The Pale Mother had shown him out to use the Earth to his advantage in terms of forming the colors that would be used as tools in his creations. His first wooden bowls that held color had been used by the Pale Mother for some of her spells and concoctions. She’d willingly surrendered them to him so he could pursue this talent of his. His first paint brush was made from the White Oak and the groomed hairs from a horse or two from his father’s stables. Surrounded by nature, Niklaus was happy and alone.
With sufficient colors prepared from different berries and flowers that he’d discovered in the wilderness, Niklaus dipped his paintbrush into the first color. The canvas made from an animal (presumably from a goat) was ready to receive his vision. Niklaus painted up and down with bold and daring strokes. His hands were moving in the directions that his mind dictated. Pictures in his mind were traveling down his arms and onto the canvas. The image was not that of the lovely brook in front of him or the doe with her twin fawns that ran across his vision. It was a darker vision that had clouded the young man as he faced an uncertain future. There were broken bodies and blood all around. Limbs were actually torn from their sockets and a severed head was laying off to the side. This was something that had been haunting his dreams as of late. It was something he had to put out there in order to get it out of his head.
Smudges of the paint lingered on his fingertips. He rubbed his forehead several times as the passion overtook him during the painting process. There were smudges of that paint on his forehead and even staining his golden locks. Perspiration beaded visibly matting those golden strands in place. He was certainly immersed in the world that painting and his vision created when he began. Niklaus could not stop. Centuries later, Niklaus was to tell a certain blonde vampire who would capture his heart, that painting was a metaphor for control. This day 10 centuries earlier was the first time that he truly acknowledged it. As a child, he had begun to experiment with the idea of having control over something for the first time in his life. As he grew older and his talent grew, that desire slipped into place. For an abused child who was now a man, control would become everything.
There was a rather large rock nearby on which Niklaus rested. He gazed upon the image of horror that would certainly have looked like the aftermath of a battle or even Muspelheim itself. There was something that frightened him and another that intrigued him. Each corpse there had a story. He displayed it in the graphic nature of the painting in front of him. Murder lay in his future even though he had yet to realize it. Today was his 16th Birthday. This was the day that Niklaus the boy was to become a man. As the centuries would pass, this was the day that he would be later remark was when the first steps to become the monster called Klaus were taken.
Destiny and the call of the gods were unavoidable.
|
|
|
03/18/2020 01:42 PM
|
A Wind in the Door
A Wind in the Door Rembrandt/ 1593610 What if there is nothing after this?
Then we’ll face it together.
The pain of the White Oak Stake ripped through his body. It hurt worse than he could have imagined. The sensation of oncoming death rapidly began to decay each body part. Staring into the eyes of his brother Klaus felt an odd sense of peace. He didn’t tell anyone how the prospect of dying alone frightened him. He was going to do it regardless of the emotions he felt. When it came to his beloved daughter and saving her life, there was no question.
Elijah walked with him and insisted that he would not let him die alone. How fitting was it that the Mikaelson Brother who had fought against all to stand side by side would die the same way? Their common foes living and dead had wanted their deaths to be at their hands. Instead Klaus and Elijah killed one another. It was a final chapter in the history of the Hybrid and the Noble Stag… or was it?
After he felt the pieces of his body fade away into oblivion, darkness claimed Klaus Mikaelson. The sounds of screams echoed around him from the dead who cried out for vengeance. They wanted to see the eternal damnation of the Original Hybrid. Others cried out for mercy. Others had seen a different side of Klaus and knew the depth of his compassion. The living and the death implored the powers that be to pass their own suitable judgement on him. It didn’t take long for the decision to be made.
In Purgatory
The sound of a babbling brook was the first thing that stirred him. The onslaught of light pricked at his eyes until he opened them. Wearing the same clothes he’d stood in before the stake plunged into his heart, Klaus started to push himself upward. Taking in his surroundings slowly, the Original Hybrid could recall a place similar to this in his youth. It was not too unlike the area just outside the Pale Mother’s cabin. He started to push his way through the forest and the underbrush that hindered his way.
A million thoughts raced through his head. If this was the afterlife, had he been dropped in hell? He’d been told the Katherine Pierce was in charge of hell. If that was the true case, then she’d have already placed him on a rack with his organs all repeatedly ripped from his body. So that was obviously some sort of lie right there. Still the question remained, where was he?
He passed into a clearing. There was a little cabin just ahead like his memories did recall. Klaus started to feel like a young boy again. In his heart, he could feel the yearning for something simple and beautiful again. The Pale Mother protected him from all the bad things back then. Just as he was about to reach that threshold, he felt something strike his body. Looking down he could see a stake protruding from his chest. He stood there momentarily stunned and unmoving. Footsteps came closer and with an unmistakable swagger to them. “Well look at what we have here!” Klaus knew that voice. It made his blood boil.
“You….” Klaus’ body was wracked with pain again but nothing on par of the White Oak stake. His cerulean hues turned amber at the sight of his first sire Lucien Castle. That was when Klaus knew he was definitely in trouble.
The dead augmented Original grinned malevolently. “Oh Niklaus. You don’t realize just how long I’ve waited to see you here.” He reached for the stake protruding from Klaus’ body. He yanked on it just enough to hear Klaus scream. Lucien's appearance was all rugged and worn. Lesser creatures would have been intimidated by his appearance. Klaus was not one of them.
Klaus’ shirt was now covered in more blood because of Lucien. Fangs bared, The Original Hybrid lunged at Lucien knocking him over. His eyes were still amber and dark hinting at his werewolf side. “Don’t you know by now that it’s dangerous to corner a wounded animal?” Klaus’ fangs bore down into Lucien’s neck ripping away shards of flesh leaving it hanging like ribbons. The look of horror and surprise on the face of his former protégé spoke volumes. He pulled the stake from his own body tossing it aside. He screamed from that pain.
Once freed from the stake, Klaus took Lucien by the leg and drug his body through the ground not caring if it got tangled in the underbrush or not. With deliberate malice he tossed the body into the brook letting it be carried away. Klaus stood there watching as the body floated away. If the dead lived again, it wouldn’t take long for other enemies of his to find him. He had to prepare. This was his life now.
Some time later
He had no idea of passing time on Earth. He’d found out that he’d been sentenced to Purgatory. Creatures in his past, including a return visit from Lucien all barraged him constantly. Klaus turned the cabin that had obviously been put there for a sanctuary for him by The Pale Mother, into a fortress. His own appearance grew haggard. Klaus had taken on a more feral appearance most of the time not bothering to retract his fangs. He not only killed his enemies, but there were intelligent creatures who did throw their lots in with him. He was a king yet again with those absolutely loyal to only him.
In his darkest hours he remembered he endured this place for his daughter. Hope was safe from the Hollow. He often wondered where Elijah was and if he’d ever see him again. What encouraged him in his darkest hours was thoughts of Caroline. His beautiful blonde vampire was a queen in his eyes and always be his queen. Klaus began to contemplate the idea almost daily.
Could he escape Purgatory and return to Earth without bringing the Hollow back? If he was given the chance, Klaus would take it. Love often drove men to drastic measures. Klaus was proof of that in his own right.
|
|
|
03/17/2020 12:47 AM
|
Absolution [TW: Child Abuse]
Absolution Rembrandt/ 1593610 989 AD, Mystic Falls
For eight long years the golden haired son of Esther and Mikael endured agony and abuse. Often he would be baffled as to why he’d just see nothing in the eyes of his father but emptiness. The other boys of the village saw affection from their Fathers. Boys learned how to hunt and fish under the watchful eye of these Viking warriors that had braved the trip into a new world from all the way over the great ocean. Niklaus enjoyed listening to the tales of the gods and of Odin’s great banquet hall from the old world. His father never told him of those stories. The Pale Mother did. His mother tried to express her love for him, but she was always busy. She fell under the domination of Mikael. She gave birth to Kol and Rebekah soon after Klaus was born. Now she was pregnant again.
During many of Mikael’s rages, The Pale Mother saved him. She came to him laying there in the dirt with more than one black eye and whisked him away to her cottage for protection. Elijah was slightly older than Niklaus and had stood up for him only to be backed off by the intimidation tactics and the unadulterated bile he spewed toward an innocent child. Elijah was but a child himself not in any way equal in stature or strength to Mikael. None of them were.
“NIKLAUS! WHERE ARE YOU BOY?” The growling sound of the Patriarch sounded like the rumbling in the sky when Thor was angry. In the hands of the small boy were just a few berries he’d crushed to make pigments in a wooden bowl. In front of him was a hide of a goat stretched over three sticks from the Great White Oak. Tiny digits we’re about to color the goat hide with the image that had remained in his head and needed to come out on the canvas. Hearing the anger of Mikael echo through the village made the child’s blood run cold. He dropped the bowl and ran.
As he ran, he could hear his heart thundering in his ears. His breath came in shallow pants because he was not as healthy as Elijah. Even as big as Finn was, he was stronger than Niklaus although he was no warrior in training like Elijah. He ran as far and as fast as he could. Tears burned down his cheeks and his vision was blurred. Niklaus thought he knew what was coming, but he had no clue. He thought he was free until he felt the monster's hand grasp his arm. “Come to me when I call you Boy! It just makes it worse when you run!”
“Father please!” The boy’s tiny voice cried out begging for mercy he knew would never come. He kicked and tried his best to pull away from his father. The sounds of Mikael and his prey were heard through the village. He was being drug kicking and screaming to where Mikael’s goats were kept. He tossed the boy down on the ground. The kicked up dirt covered the face of the boy who lay in the dirt on hands and knees.
“My biggest Billy goat was slaughtered and skinned. I know you did it. Confess and your punishment will not be severe.” Mikael was seething with rage. That Billy goat was the father of several kids in the herd. Niklaus knew the goat well. The haggard creature always spit and headbutt him when he would come to feed the goats for his morning chores. “I..I didn’t do anything Father.”
Mikael left him for a moment bringing the goat hide he was about to paint over to the boy tossing it in his face. “Why don’t you care to try that again?” Fury raged in his eyes. Niklaus had never seen him this angry. “This is the goat's hide. Even YOU can’t think me that stupid not to notice?” Mikael was so enraged he spewed saliva as he spoke.
“I didn’t kill the goat.” He sobbed with every ounce of strength he had. Mikael's fury reached the boiling point. The attack was so brutal on one so small that the villagers all turned running inside their cottages. Frightened cats raced off into the forest. The cries of the child in agony ripped through the air with merciless abandon. When the cries stopped, the flesh on flesh sound ceased. In the middle of the cries, there was the sound of a snapping bone. Mikael’s onslaught stopped.
He stood there for a moment at the child barely moving in the dirt. The rising and falling off the boy’s chest told him that Niklaus was alive. Some faint hint of horror struck the man at the fact he’d almost killed his child in a fit of rage. He leaned over to pull up Niklaus’ fragile frame into his arms. Immediately he raced toward his family’s moderately large dwelling. He knew Esther was with the Pale Mother preparing for the birth of their newest child. Elijah was hunting deer on his own. That left Finn.
Rebekah and Kol were too young and had gone on with Esther. Mikael laid Niklaus down on the closest table. “FINN! COME HERE.” Mikael took a step backwards. “There was an accident with the goats. Niklaus was hurt.” He knew his eldest son was following the way of his mother while Elijah followed him. “Use your mother’s herbs or something to help him.” Mikael wanted to feel something for the child, but he couldn’t like he did for Finn and Elijah. “Just do it…” Mikael stepped outside leaving the battered 8 year old with his eldest brother. He drank in a breath and walked away exhaling.
As Niklaus lay there, his body trembled from the severity of the beating and the broken rib that threatened to obstruct his breathing. If his lung was punctured, then the eight year old would undoubtedly die. It was all up to Finn and whether or not he could save his brother. “Finn…” The boy barely spoke as tears rolled down those dirty cheeks.
|
|
|
03/15/2020 10:29 PM
|
Crown Jewels
Crown Jewels Rembrandt/ 1593610 Coming back to Mystic Falls was the best decision Klaus Mikaelson could have ever made. After his reunion with his true love Caroline Forbes, he had to go about re-establishing his life in Mystic Falls. The home he had purchased some time ago still remained in his name and under a well paid caretaker. Stepping into the main hall all the memories cascaded back to the forefront. That was the curse of immortality. Memories both good and bad were everywhere you looked.
Klaus was content to leave the Compound in New Orleans to his beloved sister Freya. If he ever decided to visit again, he knew he would not be cast aside as a monster. He actually had a nephew that bore his name that he was quite honored by. The lad was a promising young witch/wolf which Klaus would help foster in any way he could. Of course with Klaus reopening the home in Mystic Falls, he counted on his siblings knowing they were all welcome at any time. The reason why Klaus even purchased the house and furnished it was for all of them in the first place. They’d been brought here in coffins and Daggered which tainted the memories a bit, but considering all they’d been through the Mikaelson Family yet endured.
The caretaker’s face softened when he entered the main hall to greet Klaus. Klaus actually shook the man’s hand. “Everything looks grand.” The Hybrid was pleased how everything had been left largely intact. There had been some evidence that his brother Kol and his wife Davina had spent some time there recently but that was perfectly acceptable to Klaus. There was plenty of room for all.
“It’s been my joy to look after the place, Mr. Mikaelson. Sorry to hear about the passing of Mrs. Kenner. I know she was the mother of your daughter and all…” The man was human with a knowledge of the supernatural as many were in Mystic Falls. He also knew to keep quiet as many did also. Klaus had hired him back when he first left Mystic Falls to follow what Katerina had sent him about Jane Anne Deveraux.
Klaus’ face grew sullen about Hayley. It wasn’t that he hated Hayley. She was meant to just be in his life briefly. He didn’t expect to see her again after that night. That night turned into 18 years. She became a valued friend to him through the passage of time. His love burned with an incredible passion for Caroline and no one else. “It was a great loss. Thank you for your condolences Clarence. I’m very touched.” Klaus exhaled slowly. “I’m moving in to stay. You’ll be welcome to stay and remain on the payroll of course.”
Clarence was a simple man who worked hard. He was a craftsman who took pride in his work. He earned Klaus’ respect over the years and was honored by it. His loyalty was to the Mikaelson Family, more importantly Klaus. “I appreciate it. I’m gonna get my guys on it to get you anything you need for movin' back into the house. You got my number. Just let me know what you need, alright?” He was a relatively tall man. He didn’t tower over Klaus but he was close to his height. Dark brown hair contained flecks of grey that seemed to add to the man’s character.
“Of course.” Klaus smiled softly. He watched the man excuse himself heading out of the front door. He turned around to the covered furniture and began pulling off the cotton that had kept the dust off the Antiques that Klaus had purchased all for this home that had not truly seen anything happy since he took ownership of it.
He took a moment to sit in his favorite chair. Klaus could have used his speed and uncovered everything in this room. He wanted to take a moment to just breathe. Klaus closed his eyes for only a moment. His life was now about to enter a new phase. He was reunited with Caroline. He was on good terms with his siblings. He was set to possibly face the greatest challenge in his life.
Klaus had made many enemies over the past 10 centuries. After Davina severed his sire line, his enemies all converged on him seeking his end. There would always be those who sought his end. He had always considered that sire line his protection. Now he knew his protection was not his sire line, but his family. Elijah had been right. Family is Power. He’d spoken it to Klaus that day in the cemetery when he found out Hayley was carrying his child. It had taken him nearly two decades to realize just how right he was.
Klaus opened his eyes. Sparkling cerulean hues were awake with a new kind of purpose. Oh, he was certainly no saint. He was and always would be Klaus Mikaelson the Original Hybrid. He however was more powerful now than he ever was before. The woman he loved spoke her love to him. Now one piece was truly missing.
Klaus pulled out his mobile. He dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. The voice mail answered. “Hope, this is your father. Do you remember the home in Mystic Falls that your mother took you to at one time that belonged to me? I’m here love and I’m here to stay. I’d surely love to see you. I’ve missed you.” His voice was etched with emotion. He tapped the screen before sliding the device in front of him on a table. He was still in disbelief that his life was coming together. Klaus Mikaelson the monster, was a father and a man worthy of the love of a beautiful woman. The irony was not lost on him. It was all coming together in the place he’d been born all those centuries ago. All he’d had to do was go home.
|
|
|
03/13/2020 07:33 PM
|
Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Rembrandt/ 1593610 Summer 2011
Los Angeles, CA
The starlit sky overhead looked as though it was a blanket overtop the endless bed below of the placid water of the Pacific Ocean. Cutting through this silent lucidity was a small ship breaking through the waves. It was not a quick vessel. It was a vessel on a particular mission.
Standing on the deck of this ship was a man with short blonde hair that framed his face with stern features. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean on a warm day in the spring dared glance ahead into the inky night ahead of him. He wore long blue jeans, a pair of firm boots and a dark coat that shielded him from the sea spray. No one on the crew dared to speak to him unless he spoke to them. He moved silently yet with purpose on the deck itself. The last time he was here, the world had just celebrated the arrival of mankind on the moon. Everyone was so preoccupied with what was going on in the skies overhead that they wouldn’t know what he was doing in the depths of the ocean itself.
His name was Niklaus Mikaelson. Most called him Klaus that dared to speak to him. Others were just too afraid to speak to him in the first place. He was as old as modern history itself having been born into a Viking family in the 9th Century. Here he was over 1000 years later just as alive as the day he was cursed with immortality by his own mother. He was a monster and they all knew it. “Sonar says the location is just ahead sir.”
The entire compliment of this crew was human. Humans were easily compelled. Klaus could mold their minds just as easily as anyone took clay as the old potters in his Viking village made their earthenware all those years ago. There was something else about those earthenware pots that stuck with Klaus all these years later. Those pots were easily broken and discarded when their use was over. At the mention of the sonar, he moved into the cabin of the ship. “Where? Is it intact?”
The Crewman nodded to Klaus. “Still intact and largely whole from the early readings.” He was a young man with a shock of read hair and emerald hues that studied the screen intently.
Klaus raced over to look at the screen himself. “What do you mean largely intact? There had better be nothing the matter when we get there!” His own eyes flashed a warm amber as fangs that were not typical for any sort of vampire were exposed in his anger.
“Just typical minor sea growth for something that’s been underwater for over 40 years.” The man was unusually calm because he was compelled to do this action and forget all about it later. “The object matches your description for the size and weight for what you’re searching, Sir.”
Klaus exhaled retracting his fangs as his temper subsided. This was an incredibly important package for him to retrieve. “Captain, begin salvage operations as soon as possible. OH and you!” He turned to look at the sonar man. “Slit your throat from ear to ear. Right now.”
The compelled man pulled out a curved blade that fit into the palm of his hand. It was a karambit that came directly from the Philippines. He pointed the 3.5 inch blade at his flesh and dug it in the flesh right at the jugular vein. He pulled it from left to right in a rapid motion. The resulting spray of blood short forward in a perfect arch as the dying man’s heartbeat the last few times. NO one was phased by this death so callously ordered by Klaus Mikaelson. He was the Original Hybrid born of an affair of his mother; a Viking Witch and an Alpha of the North Atlantic pack. Forced to turn her children immortal because of her husband’s demands, Esther Mikaelson was the one who made Klaus the most feared supernatural being on the entire planet. The poor man that had invoked his ire bled out on the floor of the cabin of the ship. His compelled crewmates were forced to not even notice what he’d done.
Klaus watched as the men began the recovery operation for the vault he’d buried 42 years ago. He was very critical if they had made any sort of mistake in handling the entire retrieval. Klaus watched with baited breath as the crane dropped into the water. It felt like forever until it lifted out of the water. “Yes… YES!” Klaus kept watching. He zipped down into the cargo hold to watch the vault, his vault be placed inside. The men of the crew were at his beck and call as he watched them open the vault that had been cemented by another compelled crew that had supposedly all died sailing in the waters off Vietnam. Control was everything.
The cement did in fact have an overgrowth of sea life upon it. The sailors all began to chop away slowly pulling out the contents inside with great care and precision. Klaus would kill them all of any of the contents were damaged. The contents were simple. There were four occupied coffins inside. There should have been five, but there wasn’t. That fifth one was empty. The first one lay at his feet.
Klaus lifted the lid handily. Inside was the ashen form of his beloved sister Rebekah. He’d last seen her in Gloria’s speakeasy in 1920. She still wore the pearls and had her blonde locks chopped in the style of the day. A look of relief actually washed over his features. She was safe. One by one they were laid next to him. His brother Kol was still wearing the suit that he’d worn to the family Christmas party in 1912. He was just as ashen as Rebekah was along with the same dagger protruding from his chest with the blood staining the clothing they wore. He glanced upon his eldest brother Finn still dressed as a Noble from the 12th century Italy. The Mikaelsons had had an encounter with The Five that had nearly killed them all. Fortunately with Klaus being a hybrid, they were not ready to handle the fact he wasn’t so easily dispatched. Klaus actually wanted to undagger Finn, but Elijah talked him out of it. Finn was safest there. He hated their lives as vampires. He was bound to get them caught by their Mikael sooner rather than later. Thus Finn Mikaelson remained daggered for going on 900 years.
The fourth coffin contained the body of their mother Esther. The Viking Witch had faced her bastard child Niklaus alone and he’d killed her. His siblings never knew what had happened. He’d blamed hunters and kept her spelled in said coffin that remained closed. It would take a special witch bloodline to open Esther’s coffin. Fortunately for Klaus there were very few Bennett witches left.
The fifth coffin was empty. It was the one that belonged to his only brother that still walked upon this earth, Elijah. Elijah was a wise man with a cooled hand. Klaus knew his brother’s fondness for Katerina Petrova would serve his purposes in the long run. Klaus had been denied his destruction of the mystical bond that kept his wolf side at bay. Katerina was a doppelganger. Klaus aimed to kill her to break his curse in 1492. She thwarted his plan by becoming a vampire. Klaus had been hunting her now for 500 years to kill her. Elijah was working with Klaus and to his own end. Elijah was resourceful. Once he outlived his usefulness, Klaus had a place to put his brother.
The Captain stepped up to Klaus seeking his next orders. “Everything in order, Sir?” He asked being compelled to make Klaus happy. He was an older man with a full beard over his chin.
“Indeed it is Captain. Now to find a method to transport my property to Chicago.” Klaus’ own temper was assuaged for the moment. No one else need die, right now.
“There is a club in Los Angeles called Lux. The owner is a Lucifer Morningstar. He has the connections that you need for this operation.” The man’s blank expression told Klaus all he needed to know. He was under compulsion so he couldn’t lie to him.
A sadistic grin covered the Original Hybrid’s features. “It looks as though I’m going clubbing tonight.” He clamped his hand down upon the man’s shoulder in a friendly non threatening gesture.
Later that Night at Lux
The blonde man strolled into the club with a suit jacket that was black and a rich purple shirt. His tie was a dark black to compliment the ensemble. He was a handsome newcomer that had several of the crowd inside Lux drawn to him almost immediately. He made his way toward the bar with human women on either arm. He kissed each on the neck taking a small unnoticed bite of each of them taking just a slight taste. His eyes rose to meet that of the bartender. It wasn’t the normal one but another. “Tell me something. How does one locate Lucifer Morningstar? Tell him that Klaus Mikaelson is looking to make a deal.” He grinned malevolently with an amber glow to his optics.
|
|
|
03/12/2020 12:31 PM
|
Daggered Part I
Daggered Rembrandt/ 1593610 New Orleans, Summer 1918
The fear in the air was more pronounced every day. Klaus Mikaelson sat in a chair at the head of a table listening to what the head of the human contingent in New Orleans had to say to him. Klaus’ brother Elijah stood at his right hand rather than sit in a perfectly good chair. The younger of the two brothers rested his chin in his cupped fingers trying to act as though he was interested in what the human had to say to him and his brother. “I understand your concern. This Spanish Flu is devastating to you and other humans. Aren’t the authorities exercising proper resources to handle this whole thing? Why come to my brother and I about this human problem?” Elijah posed the question far more gracefully and delicately than Klaus would have. The question made Klaus actually sit up in morbid curiosity to hear the humans answer.
The man interlocked his fingers resting them on his lap. Klaus noticed that the man had a nervous tic with his left thumb that started to grate against The Original's last nerve. “The spread of the flu is affecting quite a few humans. Tourism numbers are down, which means a smaller number of humans that are quote fair game for the vampires in New Orleans. When the tourism is down, your kind is liable to open up attacks against mine. Can you guarantee that they won’t?”
Elijah looked to Klaus. The younger of the two was the one with the most virulent temper. He knew that his brother was not very patient when it came to minor annoyances like the well being of one faction versus another. “We shall take it under advisement.” Klaus stood up quite through with this conversation already. “I’m sure my brother can see you out. Right now I have other more pressing matters that call for my more immediate attention. Good day to you.” He walked away from the bewildered and frightened man and his brother who met his brother’s stare with sagacity. Klaus paid Elijah no mind as he made his way up the steps of the compound and to the balcony that overlooked Bourbon Street.
A few moments later, Elijah would find Klaus people watching from that balcony. “Niklaus! What’s gotten into you?” Elijah scolded. He was actually a bit stunned by how Klaus had blown them all off. It wasn’t like him to be this wreckless since they had asserted dominance over the Quarter.
Klaus’ hands were spread apart on the balcony rail approximately five feet apart. Elijah noticed that his brother’s knuckles were white. “Elijah I’m surprised you’ve forgotten what today is.”
A black brow arched upward. “Enlighten me.” Over the past nine hundred years many dates passed through their lives. Elijah couldn’t be exactly sure of what Klaus meant when he mentioned one particular date over another.
“It is Kol’s birthday.” The words tripped off his tongue in almost the fashion that water would as it trickled through a dam. Klaus was thought to be this callous monster who enjoyed repeated daggering of his younger siblings to keep them in line. He turned his head from Elijah obviously wrought with emotions he didn’t want anyone to see. Perhaps it was guilt that was gnawing at him since Kol had been daggered again six years prior, perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps it was just the fact he missed his baby brother.
Klaus went back to staring at the people in front of him that passed by in their daily lives. Was it wrong of him to look down at them and be jealous that they had a finite existence with intact loving families while he didn’t? Eyelashes slowly came together and closed over one another as Klaus enjoyed the silence for one more minute longer.
Mystic Falls, 2011
All the lights were low in this house inside the rather expensive house that had been purchased and redecorated by Klaus Mikaelson. Having just recently set free his Hybrid side, everything was supposed to be right and perfect now wasn’t it? Klaus was walking through this house that could be perfect for his entire compliment of siblings and even their mother should she actually want to show a modicum of decency to her children. Klaus visibly scoffed such a notion.
His footsteps took him to a remote section of the house where a rather frightening secret was kept, if one didn’t know already. He’d compelled all the human workers to stay away from this particular room. It was his and his alone to enter.
Inside this room were five coffins. One was magically sealed and remained so. No one need open it. The first two he’d opened were Elijah's and Rebekah’s. They had both been with him recently and he’d had to dagger them to prove his dominance over them both. The next one he opened was of that of his eldest brother Finn. Finn still had his eyes shut and his long hair dressed in the finery of a nobleman of 900 years prior. Through all the migration all over Europe and the Americas, Finn’s coffin was never far from Niklaus. He kept Finn safe even if Finn didn’t want to live as a vampire. In the eyes of the Hybrid, this was better than knowing his brother was rotting in a field somewhere or turned into a pile of ash.
The last one opened was that of his youngest brother Kol. Still dressed in his attire for the Christmas party of 1912, Kol was in silent slumber instilled by his dagger. Klaus looked down at his sleeping form. It was the daggering of Kol that hurt him the most. He had wanted a relationship with his younger brother like he had with Elijah. The mix between the two was far too volatile. Kol loved the hunt and to kill. While Finn’s actions as a man didn’t want to be what they were, risked them all in the world who was scared of monsters everywhere they looked, Kol was the monster that everyone searched high and low to locate. What made it even worse was Kol’s recklessness.
Klaus looked down at the waxen countenance of his baby brother. He exhaled slowly. “Happy Birthday, Little Brother.” He whispered. Why was it he cared so much? He loved his siblings deeply. He didn’t want to see any of them dead. He’d already failed one once. Henrik’s death had cost Klaus everything. It was why they were all turned into what they’d become. As his youngest living brother Kol tended to receive the most prejudiced treatment from Klaus. He’d feel guilty and undagger Kol long enough for the two of them to go on a bender leaving bodies in their wake. But then Kol ended up daggered again, usually with Elijah’s help.
Now with all of them daggered, Klaus was alone. In his hand was an opened bottle of champagne. He raised it to his daggered baby brother and drank several gulps straight down. Klaus had everything he wanted. Yet he still felt alone.
This loneliness ate through his soul. Klaus pulled up a chair next to Kol’s coffin and just sat there continuing to drink to his brother who’d been under the spell of a blade for a century now. This was Klaus’ true curse and his ultimate misery. Nothing would ever change that, not now not ever.
|
|
|
03/09/2020 10:45 PM
|
Knocking on Heaven's Door
Knocking on Heaven’s Door Rembrandt/ 1593610 New Orleans at night had been legendary. Klaus Mikaelson had walked these streets many times in the centuries he’d spent here. He was just an Original Vampire when he and his siblings first arrived. Klaus could recall standing on the deck of the ship that arrived tossing the limp body of the sailor down the steps to the feet of his brother and sister. This new world was full of excitement and danger. This was the beginning of his love of this city.
Hands stuffed into the pockets of his peacoat, he had very tainted memories of this place. Winds whipped up around him as he continued his journey. As the hint of cold in the air chilled his bones, so too did the memories that held desperately to the Hybrid. Life changed on one day nearly two decades prior when he made a poor judgement call.
The greatest love in his long life was Caroline Forbes. It all started farther back than he cared to admit. Seeing her through the eyes of Alaric Saltzman when he had confiscated the human's form in order to put into place his plans for the Petrova doppelgänger, had stuck with him. Even once he’d returned to his body, he had intended to kill her and Tyler Lockwood for the sacrifice. Damon Salvatore had foiled those plans, but in all truth Klaus was glad that he had. Fate had another role for Caroline Forbes to play.
She was light to his darkness yet he kept falling short in her eyes. It was all about Tyler Lockwood. The more he heard the name, the more he hated it. That was when she showed up at his door. Hayley Marshall was a werewolf that would change his life and turn it completely upside-down.
For all these centuries, he had been free to take lovers of both genders and not have to suffer the consequences. After 1000 years his wolf side had been freed. Now freed, it meant that for the first time in 1000 years, Klaus Mikaelson could do something none of his siblings could do. The one that possessed his heart was a vampire and thus dead. The one he lashed against his hurting heart was a werewolf and very much alive. Klaus Mikaelson had fathered a child from an illicit one night stand with an attractive brunette. That miracle child who’s destiny it was to be here was their Hope.
The steps of the Hybrid carried him to the gates of the cemetery. Standing in front of her crypt, he ran fingertips over the carving there with her name. “I’m sorry that this happened to you Little Wolf. You didn’t ask to be thrust into this world. You handled it with grace and dignity. You were a brilliant mother that deserved to be with her child longer than she was.” He exhaled slowly. “You should have been left to live with your pack in the Bayou.” He drank in a cleansing breath with flared nostrils. It was too little too late to have these regrets. Hayley did not deserve her fate. Her only crime was bearing a child to Klaus Mikaelson.
His gaze was cast downward. The soft footsteps of Vincent Griffith joined him in this solemn moment. “Klaus, I’m sorry.” The former regent of the nine covens had befriended his sister Freya and Freya’s wife Keelin. He was genuinely concerned for Klaus and how this affected him. Klaus had only been guilty of one thing. The Hybrid wanted to protect everyone he loved and had simply failed.
“Take care of my sister Vincent.” Klaus told the witch before extending his hand. “I won’t be coming back here again.” The solemnity in his voice bore through strongly as he spoke. Klaus felt his heart breaking.
Vincent gave respect to the Hybrid that he’d actually loathed at one time. He’d noticed a change in Hope’s father in almost two decades. The murderous intent he had exhibited at one time was tempered with something he’d never imagined seeing in his life. Klaus Mikaelson was capable of mercy. “Of course Klaus.”
Klaus smiled gently. He felt sure that Freya left behind here in New Orleans was in safe hands with the witch and the werewolf. “If anything happens to her, I will be back. You can count on it.” It was a veiled threat but all in good spirits. Klaus knew there was nothing left here in New Orleans for him. He was going to go where his heart led him. That was one place.
In the crisp fall air, Klaus Mikaelson left behind his memories of a city he’d loved for so many years. His miracle child had been born here. Her mother, who became a friend to Klaus was gone. There was death and decay everywhere he looked. It was time to go.
2 days later
His car had been on the road constantly making its way to where his heart led. The Hollow had been defeated using the combined magic from Vincent Griffith and his sister Freya. Hope was spared from being the host to the ancient evil. The Mikaelson Family was not imbued with any sort of connection with the magic or it’s desire to be there. Klaus could have remained there with Freya, but as Elijah and Kol before him, he chose to willingly leave. He traveled North.
Resting didn’t matter to him. He was on a mission. He wasn’t going to stop until he saw her. The sign ahead bore the words Welcome to Mystic Falls. Klaus was almost home. The large building loomed ahead. The sign at the gate called this place was called Salvatore Boarding School for the Gifted. Klaus was allowed in due to his status as a donor and the fact his daughter was a student.
He looked a little ruffled because of his long trip from New Orleans. He straightened himself out before knocking on the door. Alaric Saltzman had answered the door. Standing there he was amazed to see Klaus was alive. “Are you sure everything is alright?” He asked.
Klaus gave that crooked little grin that he was quite known to do. “It’s perfect Alaric. There was another answer and Freya found it in time.”
The stunned Saltzman invited him inside. “I’ll go get Caroline. You just sit right here.” He backed out of the room slowly. Several of the kids passed him by curiously. There were whispers about his Identity as kids steered clear of him. One small boy with curls approached him tapping his leg.
Klaus smiled at the innocent child when he made eye contact. He wondered about the boy and what brought him here. “Well hello there Lad. Who are you?”
The boy was ten years old with big soft brown eyes. He was the most precious and innocent creature that Klaus had seen in quite some time. He did think that innocence reminded him of when Hope was that young. It was right after he’d been locked up by Marcel for five years. “I’m Pedro. Somebody said you’re Hope’s Dad. Is that true?”
Laughing warmly, he answered. “That I am.” Pedro’s eyes went behind Klaus. Klaus turned to see Caroline standing there. He slowly stood to his feet. His heart was still as filled with love this day as when he thought he was going to have to die to kill The Hollow. ”I knew this day would come sooner than later. Freya found the answer, Caroline. I’m free.”
|
|
|
[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]
|
|
Back to Posts
|
