Down the Spiral Hill – Chapter 2: Breakfast Fiasco
Klaus rolled over in his bed and clutched his blankets tight against his stomach, staring at a spot on the wall. He felt nauseous due to the overpowering smell of bacon that was wafting in from the kitchen where he could hear his mother humming and bustling around as she prepared breakfast for the family. It had been at least half an hour since she had come into his room and announced that it was time to get up before moving on to his siblings too. Unfortunately, Klaus didn't have the willpower to get out of bed that morning. Not only was he exhausted from the happenings of last night, he knew what was in store for him later that day.
A soft knock came from the door and he glanced up to find the elusive, dark haired Vanya standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face as she stepped inside the room.
"Klaus, are you alright?" She asked in a soft voice, careful not to speak too loudly. "You were so upset earlier, it scared me."
Klaus swallowed back the bile that was rising in the back of his throat and nodded his head. He took a deep breath and answered in a wavering voice that convinced no one. "I'm fine, promise. Go on without me, I'll be there soon."
Vanya looked at him skeptically but said nothing and turned to walk away. Klaus took another deep breath and shakily pushed himself up, groaning when his stomach churned. The smell of bacon was making him sick; it reminded him of rotting flesh. His stomach churned again and it was enough to send him running down the hall for the bathroom.
"What the hell?" Five exclaimed as he was shoved out of the way, hitting the wall with a loud thud. He looked over as Klaus slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.
"What's up?" Ben asked, coming out of his room. He winced as the sound of retching filled the air and they both looked over to the bathroom. "Who's in there?"
"It's Klaus," Five grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "Damn, I wonder what his problem is today. First the nightmare and now this."
"What's go – go – going on?" Diego stuttered, exiting his bedroom and wondering what all the commotion was, until he heard the noise from the bathroom. He frowned and glanced down the hall towards the kitchen where he knew their mother was at. "Should I get Mom?"
Ben shook his head and ushered them down the hall so that Klaus could have his privacy. The last thing he wanted was to alert their father of this because he believed that getting sick was a weakness and he trained them to be better than that. The thought was absurd because above all they were children and children got sick sometimes.
They headed into the kitchen where their siblings were standing at the table and took their designated places as their father soon entered the room and went to the head of the table.
"You may be seated," Reginald announced as he pulled back his chair to sit down. He then pulled out the morning paper and began to read a column as be listened to the soft pitter-patter of Grace's heels against the floor and the scraping of each chair – but then he noticed that something was missing. "Where is Number Four?"
The siblings looked around at one another, unsure of either where he was or if they should admit that he was incapacitated at the moment. Thankfully nothing needed to be said because within seconds he came shuffling into the kitchen looking pale and queasy.
"I'm here," Klaus said in a strained voice, careful not to breath through his nose. He didn't want to smell the bacon and have to make a run for the bathroom again. Without another word he moved to his spot at the table and sat quietly between Five and Diego, but made no movement to touch his food and instead closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
Across the table, Ben watched him with a worried expression and the others looked on with unspoken concern. This behavior wasn't normal and it was a bit unnerving to see their eccentric and boisterous brother so subdued.
"Eat up, my darlings," Grace chirped with a bright smile as she finished serving each of them.
Klaus glanced down at his breakfast plate and bit the inside of his lower lip when he saw the three pieces of curled up, grease covered bacon on his plate. It was a harmless breakfast food that he had always enjoyed but in that moment all he could see was fried flesh on his plate and he wasn't sure if he could ever eat it again.
"Eat up," Grace said again, when Klaus didn't touch the meal. "You all have a long day ahead of you and breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"
With a grimace, Klaus picked up a piece if plain toast and nibbled on it, hoping it would help settle his stomach; it tasted like ash on his tongue. He prayed that breakfast would end soon because he didn't know if he could hold out for much longer, but at the same time he was dreading the moment Reginald would stand and announce that the meal was over and it was time for lessons.
Each day of the week held a special lesson for each of them in addition to their group trainings, and Thursday's were his special training day. It was a time when father would cater to their abilities and help them reign each power in full control. As it would be, Klaus had trouble tapping into the full extent of his abilities due to the fact that he was too scared to even try. Reginald seemed to believe that he held a great ability that put him ahead in rank than three of his siblings, but none of them had yet to see what it was. As far as any of them knew, Klaus included, he could only see the dead.
"Push further, Number Four! If you can see them and they can see you, you should be able to talk to them! Communication is key!"
What Reginald didn't understand was that these ghosts or spirits or whatever the hell they were, were not trying to communicate with him and tell him their life stories. All they ever did was scream his name loud as a banshee and shriek as if they were dying all over again. He didn't want to talk to them, he wanted them to disappear and leave him alone.
Unfortunately, Reginald had other plans for him which included overcoming this fear of the dead by force if necessary. And if there was one thing that described Sir Reginald Hargreeves it was that he was relentless.