Okay guys. Go easy on me. This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction, I very well may need more practice. I tried to keep the mannerisms and language true to Klaus, but no one is perfect. Thanks to anyone who reads this! I would love any feedback and I will try to update ASAP to keep the story going.

The witch sucked in her breath, sweating hard from her brow. Her hands flew as she recorded the image burned onto her eyelids. Her hands danced across the paper, drawing the separate images as they popped into her head. Numbers, a map, a girl with curly blonde hair dancing behind her. Suddenly, her eyes opened, fear evident in their deep brown. Her friends matched her fear, questions on the tips of each person's tongue. "Call Klaus" she ordered, crumpling the paper recording in her hand and jumping to her feet. "Now."

"Who was it?" he growled into the witches face.

"I told you, I never saw her face. I had glimpses, I was hoping you'd be the one to fill that in. The vision did say she was the one you loved."

"Well that's odd, considering I don't love anyone." He paced the hard wood floor, running his fingers through his curly dirty blonde hair. He sighed, "give me the paper," he ordered.

The witch hesitated for a minute, before Klaus snatched the paper out of her hand, chuckling lightly to himself. "What's this?" He asked, pointing to some of the chicken scratch on the paper, "this number, what does it mean?"

"I don't know," the witch said, annoyed with Klaus' constant questioning, "it was just an image."

"What does it look like?" He growled, bringing his hot face next to hers and shoving the paper close to her face, so she was forced to look nowhere else.

"I don't know! An address, a phone number, a birthday?" The witch continued to rattle off numbers of significance, but Klaus had stopped listening.

"Stop." He ordered, stepping away from the witch. "Birthdate. Ah, you may be on to something, witch. Now, round up all the young women who match your images or whatever useless rubbish your vision gave you. But only, the ones born on October 10, 1992."

"What are you going to do with them?" The witch asked, her eyes wide.

"No matter to you. Bring me the girls. I will find out which one of them is to become my weakness and kill her before she has the chance to mean anything to me. Hell, I'll kill them all if I have to."

"You can't kill her Klaus, she may be the only way for someone to get to you and kill you, but she is also the only way for you to become truly immortal."

"What?" Klaus growled.

"You know what. The spell—the one to make someone truly immortal—can only be preformed with an artifact of one's true love."

"Then I will find the girl, you will preform the spell, and afterwards I will dispose of her."

Klaus weighed the witch's expression carefully, smirking while waiting for her to argue with him again. She thought about pointing out that in order to find the girl, he would need to fall in love with one of them, but chose not to give him a reason to be more angry than he already seemed about the prophecy. "And where do you plan to keep these girls as you decide whom the correct one is?"

A half smile broke across his face, "in my home of course, I'll need to watch over them." He took a few steps away from the witch, "go. I've heard of a few enemies planning a strike on me coming up, and I'd just love to be truly immortal by the time they show up, we don't know where that white oak dagger has gone and I'm not risking it." Klaus had already sat down on the couch and poured himself a drink before the witch got out the door.

Klaus was still in the same position when the witch came back days later, a string of 27 young women behind her.

"I thought there'd be more." Klaus said, eying the girls, most of whom were quivering with fear.

"These were the ones that fit the whole prophesy, the hair color, the build, and from Virginia."

Klaus stood, sauntering confidentially towards the line of girls. "Welcome," his voice was friendly and unfriendly at the same time, and he saw several girls shiver. "You're all here for one reason. Impress me." He scanned the line of girls, noting several who's company he knew he would enjoy. They were all human, he could hear the blood pumping through their veins. They were all scared, he could see it in their eyes and stances. All except one, that is when his eyes locked on Caroline Forbes for the first time. His mouth broke into a smirk—nothing wrong with mixing business with pleasure, he thought.