And this is where my obsession love for Klaus is becoming a problem. I watched season four episode six, "We All Go a Little Mad Sometimes" and I couldn't stop thinking about what Klaus said about being plagued with hallucinations for over 52 years. I wanted to read a fanfic about what it was like for him during that time (I'm such a sucker for whump) but I didn't really have the patience to search for one, so I wrote one myself. I also wanted to experiment with second POV, since I've never tried that one before. And hey at least I'm doing something productive while procrastinating writing my lab report.


I paced around for hours, on empty,
I jumped at the slightest of sounds.
And I couldn't stand the person inside me,
I turned all the mirrors around.

It all starts when you kill the original five hunters.

They taunt you. Call you out. Somehow, they know all your weaknesses and are determined to exploit them. You won't let them.

You don't realize they are hallucinations at first. You are startled, yes, but more so by the fact that these people have the audacity to talk to you like that. Do they not know who you are?

You are Klaus bloody Mikaelson.

You are feared. The original hybrid. The strongest of them all.

A different kind of monster.

These people do not scare you. They are weak, and they have made a grave mistake in antagonizing you.

You rip the heart out of one and the body transforms into someone else right before your eyes, only then do you realize that these people are not real.

They still do not scare you. If they are not real then they cannot hurt you. It's not long before you realize that you are wrong, and longer still before you admit it.


Five years later, the hallucinations still haunt you. You try to move on and keep up with your plans but they are always with you. Always taunting you. They know all your secrets, and they do not relent.

"Murderer," they whisper.

"Monster,"

You know these words are true. You've accepted that long before they showed up.

"Weakling,"

You clench your hands into fists.

"Who could ever love you?"

You punch a hole in the wall.

"Now look at what you've done," they chortle.

They want you to feel guilty. You sure have a hell of a lot to feel guilty about. But you don't let them because if you show them weakness then that means that they win. You are strong. You will not let them break you.

You brush off your shoulders and carry on, and you don't let these hallucinations haunt you. At least, you don't let them know that they do.


Twelve years since killing the original hunters is when you start to see Mikael. You think he's real at first and that he has found you after all these years of running; and you are so terribly afraid. You don't want to see him—you never wanted to see him ever again—but he is holding the white oak stake in his hands and you think of this as an opportunity rather than as a threat. You will not let him beat you this time.

He laughs at you coldly. Taunts you with words like "weak, pathetic, boy,"

(Bastard.)

Will he ever get some new insults? How very unoriginal.

He doesn't try to kill you, or even hit you, which you find strange. He keeps talking about wanting to kill you but he doesn't actually try. He just keeps spitting out the same insults—nobody cares about you anymore, boy!—and you are shaking with rage. You clench your hands into fists at your sides and you can feel your blood boil with every passing second that Mikael remains alive.

Go on, kill him…what do you have to lose? A voice says. It's not Mikael's, but you hardly know if it's yours either.

You briefly think of your siblings, lying daggered in the morbid coffins you tote around with you wherever you go. You wonder if they would miss you if Mikael killed you. You wonder if they would celebrate.

You are not afraid when you rip the white oak stake from Mikael's hands and relish in the surprised expression on his face as you plunge the stake into his heart. He disappears and you feel relieved for the briefest of moments.

It is only when you feel a presence behind you and you spin around to find your father (not your father) standing over you, smirking, that you feel afraid. You are paralyzed and trying very hard not to shake. The room seems suddenly a lot smaller than you remember it being, and is shrinking still.

Mikael smiles evilly at you and says that you can't get rid of him like you did Esther. You realize you're hyperventilating and you are terrified. You don't want him here, you want him dead and gone and out of your life so that you can finally finally eke out some small semblance of peace and not have to run or be scared or angry because of what he made you and your family into.

Real Mikael could hit you, beat you, and kill you. But he too, could be killed.

This figment of your imagination and this damned curse couldn't kill you but you also cannot kill it. And that scares you more than anything else.


A while after that (you can recount the exact number of days since then; 1812, give or take a few time zone miscalculations, as you've been traveling all over the world trying to run away from your own mind.) you start seeing your siblings. You know they are hallucinations the second you see them. You're used to this by now (at least, you like to think so.)

You are in a small log cabin alone in the mountains, huddled amongst the ragged bedsheets that you've torn to shreds during one of your usual restless nights. Rebekah stands to the side of you and crosses her arms.

"You're a monster!" she seethes.

You've heard this all before (monstermonstermonstermonstermonstermonstermonstermonster.) You press the palms of your hands into your eyes and focus on that pressure. You see the inky blackness and the random spikes of luminescent color and you think only about that and not about Rebekah beside you, screaming about how you stole her life away from her.

"All I ever wanted to do was find someone to love! I wanted to have a life and a family and to be happy and why was that so wrong to you!" Rebekah screams.

I just wanted to protect you, you think, but you don't acknowledge her.

Rebekah bends down and forces you to look at her. "Don't give me that crap about wanting to protect me, you just didn't want to be alone!" she says, seemingly reading your thoughts. Maybe she has.

"YOURE RIGHT!" you scream. You didn't mean to make her unhappy because she's your sister and you want her to be happy but you don't want her to leave you. If she found a lover then she would leave and you would be alone and you are so selfish for wanting to keep her around with you forever because you can't stand the idea of being alone again. She is the only one that hasn't left yet. You just want so desperately for her to stick around, even if she hates you. Because even if she hated you, she would still be there. (Just please, please, don't leave me alone.)

Elijah appears on the other side of the bed. He doesn't say anything at first and just stares down at you with those disappointed brown eyes.

"What has the bastard done this time?" you used to ask sarcastically whenever Elijah would come to reprimand you for whatever you've done. You don't say anything now and Elijah smiles curtly at you.

"Hello, brother," he says evenly. You warily nod at him.

"I'm not here to help you," he says. You know that. "I'm not cleaning up your mess this time."

He's always been cleaning up your messes. Ever the noble brother, always taking care of everyone else and sparing so little time for himself. You would often mock him for being so uptight (which was true) but you would never admit that you were a little jealous. He was so good, so selfless, you sometimes wished to be that instead of this wrathful atrocity you were made to be.

"I have given you EVERYTHING!" Elijah shouts, and you jump. "I have put aside everything that I am just so that I could continue on this fruitless search for your redemption. I have given up my own happiness, everything that I've ever wanted, all because of YOU!"

You don't realize that you're wrapping your arms around yourself.

"I've lost count of all the times I've forgiven your transgressions," Elijah says, "remember Celeste? The witch you so carelessly got killed? For what? Because you were bored?"

You don't say anything. You do not move.

"And little Marcellus. I had to make him hate me so that he would go back to giving you his undivided attention, all because you were jealous." Elijah says.

"I'm starting to think you don't even deserve redemption,"

You hug your knees to your chest and don't look at Elijah because you know that he's right.

Elijah continues to speak but you can't make out the words because Rebekah is still screaming at you. And then Kol appears at the foot of the bed, along with Finn, and you can't look at them as they speak their minds as well. Their voices blend with those of your other siblings and you just want them to stop.

One voice breaks through the shouts of the others.

"You killed me,"

Henrik. Poor, poor Henrik.

"It's your fault that I'm dead," he says.

You don't say anything but you know that it's true.

"If it wasn't for you then all of us wouldn't be stuck in this miserable form," Rebekah says. The others chime in with her to blame you.

"It was your fault we were cursed and turned into monsters," Finn says.

"You killed me," Henrik repeats.

"You are an abomination," Kol says, annunciating every word.

You bury your head in your hands. You don't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

(yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault.)


Esther appears to you in the middle of the night, when there's a thunderstorm outside and you cannot sleep. You don't look at her as she lazily sets herself down on a torn up couch that you've gouged with knives and fingernails.

"Should I say it or shall I let you?" she says casually as she crosses one leg over the other.

You look past her and out the window. You watch the rain fall in sheets upon the glass—it's a miracle you haven't shattered the windows yet—and you listen only to the sounds of the thunder.

"I guess I will then. Why did you kill me?" Esther asks, keeping her voice even, but it is still chilling.

You know why.

She sighs, disappointed, and stands up. She gracefully moves in front of the window and you meet her eyes for a brief second before you turn away. You bunch up the sheets in your fists and try to deny the fact that you are shivering.

"Klaus, my son," she says gently, tenderly even.

Lightning flashes, illuminating her from behind in eerie blue light and for a second she is only a shadowy silhouette. Harsh light reflects off the million pieces of glass strewn about the floor from the mirror you shattered because you were too ashamed to look at it.

Esther steps closer to you but you do not move. You do not let her know that you are scared. She reaches a hand out to you, to cup your cheek in her palm, and you throw the sheets away and run as fast as you can out the door and into the storm. You feel the rain pelt you like bullets and the harsh winds threaten to topple you over but you do not stop running. You never stop running.


You are beginning to unravel. Or, you think, you've been unhinged long ago.

You stumble around blindly on empty, exhausted, but unable to sleep. It's been eleven days since you've last slept, and you are so so tired, but you cannot seem to fall asleep. You can barely even stand, let alone move, yet you continue on your winding path across the bridge.

You hear a sound and you jump. It's only a girl with her boyfriend, holding hands and walking leisurely across the bridge. You grip the handrails so tightly that your knuckles turn white, and you stare into the ebony blackness of the water below. Their voices are grating to your ears and you just want them to be QUIET.

"Hey! You alright?" the girl's boyfriend calls. You startle, and then curse as a wave of irritation overcomes you, and turn around, snarling. The couple's eyes widen when they see you. You think that you must look like a walking corpse, what with your vacant, glassy eyes that are sunken in to their sockets and surrounded by dull and gaunt flesh. The humans look fearfully upon you. This is what you wanted.

You tear them both to shreds.


It's been fifty-two years, four months, and nine days and you still see the hallucinations.

It's strange, you think, to feel time. As an immortal being, you've never really bothered with it and just let it slip away like water through your fingers. But with these hallucinations, each day is separate. You can recount the exact number of days you've suffered with the damned voices although you've gotten better at ignoring them by now.

You go about your every-day business, toting around your siblings in coffins while your hallucination siblings taunt you, and just keep running from Mikael and looking for a way to break your werewolf curse.

You are so tired, but you keep your head held high. You are Klaus Mikaelson, the most powerful creature on the planet, and you will make sure that everyone knows that.

And then, suddenly, the voices stop.

The hallucinations finally finally disappear and you don't know why or how or what has happened but you don't care. They are finally gone and you want to laugh. You throw your head back and look towards the sky and

You

Are

Free.

(But not really.)