By V.C. Turner (writeturnlove)
(Here is the finished One Shot. I've never written Klaus before, so I hope I did justice to the character.)
Klaus woke from his first peaceful sleep centuries, lying next to the very human, very mortal, Camille O'Connell.
For a brief moment, he felt hope. Hope that he could be loved by someone that embodied the innocence he'd abandoned more than a millennium ago.
With her, he was not the bastard son hunted by his father and hated by his mother.
With her, he was not the irredeemable vampire king…well, perhaps he was, but she had somehow found a way to make him a little less irredeemable over the past couple of years.
Despite his penchant for killing, she did not fear him. She never feared him, regardless of how fragile of a creature she was.
She had quickly become the strongest human he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. He dared not become a disappointment to her now.
It would continue to be a dangerous life for them both, but that was the nature of his kind.
His cautious smile quickly faded once he allowed the realization sink into his tormented soul: he could not have forever with her.
Forever was reserved for someone else; someone he could not have at the moment.
But now, Camille could bring him the happiness his parents never felt he deserved. She could see and bring out the better part of his nature.
For that, he adored her. For that, he was eternally grateful.
Besides, Camille never permit him to turn her. He understood her reasons, even if he didn't share them. She would make a fantastic immortal, he thought, but the life of a monster wasn't meant for such an angel.
It truly was a pity. She would be a spectacular vampire.
Klaus wrapped his arm around her to pull her to his chest. He reached to stroke her skin when he realized something he'd been too distracted to notice before: there was no rise and fall to her chest.
He soon smelled it: her blood clung to his hands as her life faded from them.
Camille lay broken in his arms.
His anger boiled. A roar escaped his lungs while his vision blurred with rage.
His cell phone rang; the number all to familiar to him.
Aurora was calling to gloat.
Klaus' sticky finger pushed the answer button.
"I'm assuming you don't like my gift," Aurora said calmly, "What a shame: I spent all that time wrapping it especially for you."
"I will kill you wench! If you think you feared Michael – well let me tell you this: there will be no stopping me. There will be no corner of the world you can hide; no safe harbor to call home. You mark my words, little one: I will end you for this!" he bit at her over the phone.
"Oh, tsk, tsk, Niklaus. Really. All this rage for a pathetic human girl? I actually find it amusing, and I must admit rather sexy come to think of it," she purred into the phone.
Klaus stiffened at her words. She'd signed her own death warrant, yet she continued to mock him in the most juvenile of ways.
"Understand this – bitch – when I finally reach inside your chest to pull out that black mass of flesh you call a heart, you will finally know my rage and understand that she was worth it and you…you never were!"
The phone crushed beneath his grasp, but he saved his gentler touches for Camille. Sweet Camille, whose life ended as a result merely existing in his troubled universe.
He looked down at Cami's lifeless body, caressing her cheek and bidding her farewell to this life.
The time to morn would come later.
For now: there would be Hell to pay.
After his sisters bathed her body, they wrapped Camille in white linen scented with Lavender. Everything except her face was covered.
Klaus carried her to the center of a bed of flowers sitting atop a funeral pyre. His lips pressed against her forehead.
"Goodbye, sweet Camille," he whispered, "You were the good in a world of evil. May you find peace, because the ones that slaughtered you never will."
He slowly backed away from her – his friend, his confidant, his absolution.
Turning to Freya, Klaus nodded, signaling her to set the wood ablaze.
Freya held up her hand, and whispered "Phasmatos Incendia."
Flames began to lap at the wood on the bottom of the pyre.
Camille stirred slightly, then sat bolt upright in her funeral gown. Klaus flew in her direction, sweeping from her deathbed and onto the sofa in the center of the compound.
Aurora had turned her.
The bitch had cursed Camille, but returned her to him. Why?
She looked at Klaus with knowing, tearful eyes. She scanned the room, inhaling deeply. He watched as she adjusted to her new senses.
Camille turned toward the entrance of the compound as a young woman entered with bleeding wrists and holding a white envelope.
Klaus sped over to her, pulling the envelope from her hands. He opened it slowly, knowing who'd sent it.
"Dear Nik, I promised myself I wouldn't kill her without allowing you to watch her die as she refuses to complete the transition. You have trained her so well to hate our kind. At least you can take comfort in the fact that you will be the last thing she ever sees."
He let the note drop from his hands as the bleeding, compelled female walked toward Camille and sat next to her on the sofa.
Cami looked at Klaus.
"Why does it burn?" she choked out of her dry throat.
"That's the thirst, my dear," he told her in a soft voice, "If you don't feed, you will die."
"I know how this works," Cami said, shaking, "Get her out of here."
"But Camille," he started.
"I said get her out!" she yelled at him. He flinched, seeing her eyes redden slightly.
Klaus ushered the girl from his home and returned to Camille, who had started pacing frantically back and forth in her linen sheet and bare feet.
Her breath quickened and she covered her ears. She must have been overwhelmed by the sounds she was making.
"I don't want to be this, this thing, Klaus!" she said, tears staining her flushed cheeks.
She clung to the white sheets draping her, holding on for dear life – but what kind of life could it be?
"Camille, listen to me: You have to turn. If you don't, you will die," he insisted.
"Then I'll die," she snapped back.
He knew her rage was directed at the situation and not at him, but he still offense.
"No, I will not allow it!"
She frowned in defiance at him. Spectacular, he thought.
"YOU will not allow it. YOU. Who the Hell are you to tell me when I can or can't die!" she shouted, her vampire veins beginning to surround her eyes.
Cami touched them gently as she came to her own realizations about herself.
Klaus decided to change his approach.
"There is power in this, Camille," he assured her, "You don't have to fear it."
"I don't fear it, Klaus. I simply don't want it," she said.
"And why not? Why not embrace what you are?" Klaus asked.
"I don't want to embrace it! Why the hell did you do this to me?" she begged him.
Klaus swallowed his rage to explain.
"I did NOT do this to you. I'm sorry to say that the true author of this tragedy was Aurora," he explained.
He picked up the note, handing it to Camille and waiting for her to finish reading it.
A wry chuckle escaped her tightly sealed lips.
"So I'm still a pawn in your ex-lover's game?" she asked, allowing some of her tears to fall, but she still exuded a strength that continued to impress him.
Rebekah, who had remained silent, slowly strolled to Cami's side.
"It's alright, love," the blonde vampire soothed, "I can teach you what you need to know."
Klaus smiled down at his little sister. He had to tease her a bit.
"Dear Sister, with all due respect, you are not the best example of control from which young Cami can learn," he stated, smirking a bit.
Rebekah stood up and punched him in the shoulder.
"Do you see what I mean?" he added.
Under other circumstances, Cami would have thought exchange between the sparring siblings was sweet, but the burning in her throat distracted her. The hunger was evident as was her anger.
She was tired of being pushed around. She was tired of being used and tortured for the amusement of others. She wanted the world to burn, and she wanted to light the match.
Knowing she would regret it almost immediately, she looked to Klaus.
"Bring me the blood before I change my mind and give that bitch what she wants rather than what she deserves," Camille said through clenched teeth.
Klaus held back a smile and reached for a crystal glass from which he'd been drinking earlier.
Cami swirled it around instinctively, forgetting it was blood rather than wine. She took a quick sip, surprised that it didn't completely disgust her. She then downed the rest of the glass.
Klaus reached into Rebekah's pocket, pulling out her phone.
He dialed a number he knew by heart.
He knew the best person to teach Camille how to be a vampire of a better nature: carefully balancing strength and control.
A soft, beautiful voice answered the other end of the line after two rings.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Caroline, how would you like a trip to New Orleans?"
"Klaus," Caroline said in a cheerfully guilty voice, "Business or pleasure? Or should I even ask?"
"Well," he smirked, "If you're a very good girl, perhaps a little bit of both."