Daggers in the Back
Bodies littered the floor; each with their throat ripped out. The original vampire in the room lay sprawled across the couch, clothes smeared with blood, with an air of arrogance surrounding him. No vampire in their right mind would ever dare to challenge him, or else he's gladly tear them to pieces. It didn't matter to him that they were only trying to keep the vampire race a secret from the humans by stopping his less than secretive feedings. Anyone who tried to disrupt his fun he would gladly dispose of. With a cocky smirk in place, he looked into the horrified eyes of one barely alive young lady, "Closer darling, I'm still feeling a tad parched."
The compulsion affected her immediately, causing the blonde to do all that she could to scramble towards the bringer of her impending death. The struggle was evident on her face as she tried to fight the movements of her body, for she was not ready to face the ending of her own life.
"Please, I beg of y— "The woman whimpered pleadingly, only to be interrupted by the monster that lay inches in front of her.
"Ah, ah, ah… I didn't say you could talk, my sweet." The original brought a perfectly sculpted hand to her face, stroking the skin of her cheek with his nail. In doing so, he left behind a trail of red in his wake. A small cry escaped the woman as she kneeled terrified at the foot of the luxurious couch; she could feel the sharp pain of his nail drawing blood, and feel the blood as it dripped down her neck into the white, soft, and plush carpet. The vampire inhaled, drawing in the smell of the thick, crimson, liquid; it was coppery with a hint of sweetness; simply addicting.
Taking the shaking woman into the cage of his arms, he licked the blood from her slick skin, tracing the wound he inflicted, and got a taste of what he desired mixed with the salty perspiration from the terrified woman's flesh.
Delicious, he mused with a wicked, pearly white, grin gracing his features. The original could hear the pounding of the helpless human's heart as his head leaned down to graze her pulse point with his lips; her rapid pulse echoed in his ears as his bloodlust began to take over. The temptation was getting to be too much. Even with a thousand years of experience with control, he could never bring himself to stop the thrill of hunting his victims, draining and savoring every drop that they had to offer. He'd muse: Why should I control myself? These pathetic humans aren't even worth the ground they walk on, so what does it matter that I choose to indulge my cravings?
Thump, thump, thump, came the loud pumping of the woman's heart. With dark eyes and a feeling of satisfaction washing over him, he sunk his fangs into her neck. The woman let out a pained shriek, but he easily ignored it when the sweet blood hit his throat. The thrashing woman in the arms of the original weakened with every mouthful he took from her Carotid artery until, finally, the last drop of her blood hit his tongue. She lay still, dead.
Licking his lips, fangs retracting, the vampire dropped the woman without care onto the floor, her head hitting the floor with a dull thud. Looking around the fancy hotel room, he saw the several bodies that lay strewn about. All were lifeless, but, interestingly enough, each person died with varying facial expressions, not that he cared to examine them.
All in a day's work, I suppose, he thought offhandedly as he surveyed each of his victims without even a twinge of remorse. With a shrug of his shoulders, the original made his way into the bathroom to clean himself up.
A large mirror rested above the two sinks on the right as he walked in, and a large shower with a sliding glass door and the toilet stood on the left. Ignoring the grand tub besides the shower, the vampire turned on the shower, setting the temperature at its hottest degree. The glass was quick to steam up, and so was the mirror, but the original had easily caught a fleeting glimpse of himself as he shed his clothing onto the tile.
His face was pale, framed by short and straight, brunette, locks. He had a pair of dark brown eyes that sparkled mischievously, showing a hint of the dark persona that hid within. A smirk played across his pale pink lips; the starting of a dimple was indented into his right cheek. His eyebrows lifted in appreciation as he looked at himself. You know, for being alive for nearly a thousand years, I look pretty damn good, he thought arrogantly. The vampire entered the shower and stood underneath the molten spray. His muscles relaxed accordingly as the spray pounded against his scalp to run down his spine, and he began to lather the shampoo into his brunette hair. Once his hair was rinsed clean of all the dirt and grime that had accumulated, he grabbed the soap bar to continue ridding his skin of the last remnants of dried blood.
Turning off the shower, he grabbed a towel off the rack and wiped himself dry before retrieving and pulling on his clothes for the evening. A shrill ringing echoed off the walls of his temporary bedroom, someone was calling him. Flashing over to the dresser, he picked up the landline, successfully silencing the annoying ringing.
"Nik, to what do I owe the pleasure." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he sauntered over to the stationary hotel landline phone.
"Kol, Elijah and I are having a drink at the local bar, care to join?" Klaus drawled. Kol smirked to himself. He'd already drunk quite a lot today, but what's a couple more of the inebriating variety.
"As long as you don't whine about my indiscretions, Nik." Kol responded lazily with a roll of his eyes.
"Deal." He said and promptly hung up.
Looking down at the fresh suit he pulled on, Kol snatched his keys off the kitchen table, took one last glance at the remnants of his meal, and exited the building.
Kol entered the bar with the usual cocky smirk in place as he eyed the multitude of people partying at the bar. There were plenty of people just waiting to be eaten. He spotted Elijah and Klaus sitting in their own booth fairly close to the bar. They were nursing their drinks as they discussed a topic deeply. Kol walked leisurely to their booth, confident smirk in place, while making sure to send winks at each of the woman that began throwing him looks, eyeing him up and down like a rare piece of meat.
"Elijah, Nik." Kol greeted. He leaned down abruptly to steal a shot of vodka from in front of Elijah, and downed it in one large gulp.
"Kol," Elijah acknowledged briefly, sending him a calculating look as his drink was taken from him.
"Little brother, you've made it, ten minutes late." Klaus commented airily, his finger tracing the curve of his glass idly. Before answering, Kol called the bartender over and asked for another round of drinks.
"I like to think I'm fashionably late, Nik." Kol retaliated carelessly. He slid into the empty side of the booth, facing both of his grave looking brothers who shared a significant glance before turning back to him.
"What do you two want?" Kol asked them neutrally, but internally he was beginning to feel the inklings of distrust. A part of him told him that he needed to get away from them now, while he still could, but a look around the crowded place told him that his brothers couldn't do anything to him or else they risk gaining scrutiny from the surrounding patrons.
"Our father is coming, Kol." Klaus started, looking into his glass of bourbon. Kol rolled his eyes. Oh yes, their forever annoying father who wished to kill each and every one of them for being what they are: vampires. Kol could never understand why his father wished to do this when he himself created them the monsters that they are today. He, unlike most of the others, decided to embrace what he was; it's not like any of his siblings cared what he did. Kol was just their strange supernatural warlock brother who lost his powers in transition.
"And?" Kol questioned obliviously.
"So we need to leave." Klaus shot him an incredulous look that grew more furious at every apathetic glance that Kol sent him.
"No, you need to leave. Father is coming for you, Nik, and only you. I'm liking the city. So much free food around here, so I'm staying." Kol stared down his brothers, daring them to stop him. Klaus let out a low growl, too low for any of the humans to hear at Kol's insolence.
"Father is after all of us, Kol. Don't be foolish." Elijah fought back strongly and grew determined to make his brother see sense. He didn't like the option that he was sure Niklaus would use, but if it had to be done, then so be it. He'd want a daggered brother rather than a dead one.
"No, you can't make me leave Elijah." Kol was trembling with fury. How dare they command him? He was his own person, lived by his own rules. He didn't have to do anything they told him to do. Kol shot up out of the plush booth, he needed a drink. Preferably something warmer and livelier than what the bartender could provide.
He stormed over to a feisty looking red head by the door with a pleasant look on his face. He stood a few feet away from her and her friends, beckoning her to join him. Her friends began giggling at her knowingly and started to push her towards him. Red head strut over to him, looking him up and down once more as she came closer, checking out his muscled exterior and handsome face.
"Walk outside with me, don't scream or move once we get outside." Kol compelled her once they were face to face, keeping up the pleasant façade for her inquiring friends. The girl nodded numbly, dazed, and followed him out as he began exiting the establishment.
Kol dragged the poor girl into the alley besides the joint and shoved her roughly against the brick wall, taking some of his anger out on the girl. He bit into her jugular roughly, prompting a pained gasp from her. He didn't have time to savor this drink, she was just the appetizer, a means of distraction from the boiling rage that stirred within. In his fury, Kol didn't notice his brothers watching him from the shadows, creeping stealthily closer. It wasn't until they had him in their grasp that his senses informed him of their presence, but it was too late by then. Kol dropped the girl recklessly onto the pavement and attempted to escape the trap, but they were just as quick as he, so his efforts were all in vain.
Kol felt drunk from the feed, unable to believe fully what was happening to him. It was vervain, it must've been, yet how had they gotten it into his system? Kol didn't know, but he was too far gone to care.
"It was your indiscretions that has brought Mikael here, Kol. We gave you the chance to come along peacefully, but you refused. It's now time for you to face the consequences of your actions." Barely conscious he heard Elijah's guilt ridden whisper to him.
"Enjoy the nap, brother." Klaus murmured before plunging the dagger dipped in the white oak's ashes deep into Kol's chest. Kol felt no more.