Klaroline Writing Week Day 2: The day of Dark.
A/N: Sooo… I kind of suck at writing dark, so this isn't really dark. Now that I think about it, it's not even that much Klaroline. Oops. It's basically my version of what I would like to see Care as sometime in the future. Anywho, a hundred years later, married!Klaroline, Care's the BAMF queen we all want her to be, and Klaus gets a boner seeing his wife take down someone who threatened her family. Enjoy.
The first time she killed someone was horrific. An innocent person manipulated by Damon Salvatore for the gang's own gain. She remembered feeling so horrible about giving in to her new nature that she even turned to Damon for help and comfort, until he tried to kill her.
The next time she killed someone was slightly less regrettable, for it was to save Elena and herself, but at the time she was only focused on showing her true self to her mom.
Then the twelve witches were next. Although it was for Bonnie, she felt remorse, especially with Klaus' "one is better than twelve" speech. She couldn't begin to understand how the thin line between good and bad had blurred so much in the past year. Black and white turned grey. Elena and Katherine became vampire-Elena. 'Good Klaus' and 'Bad Klaus' became 'just Klaus'. And 'just Klaus' became the love of her life. And then her life was threatened a couple times (okay, a million times). And she saw Klaus torture and maim countless people before ripping their hearts out, all the while feeling little to no guilt because damn it, half those people fucking deserved it. And then she fed from and even killed a couple people; hell, she even went on a Ripper spree for a couple years. And in the end, she was okay with a little bloodshed, because, as Klaus had been trying to get her to realize so many times in the beginning of their relationship, it was in their very nature, and once she embraced that nature, she finally realized what she had been missing out on, and you don't know how many times she mentally slapped herself for not realizing it sooner.
And that's how she got here. With her hand drenched in blood, holding the heart of the now dead person whose chest she had plunged it into. And all the remorse and regret and sorrow she would have felt a century ago when she was so desperately trying to hold onto her morality and human life, was instead replaced by relief- and power. Lots of it. Because the man lying dead at her feet was part of a group that had threatened her family. Her husband of forty years and her new brothers and sister. And no one gets away with that. Not when they were the ones who had made her who she was today- the person who she had secretly wanted to be all her life. One who ruled New Orleans alongside the most powerful being on Earth, all the while being loved by him as well. A true queen, with her humanity intact but no problem with feeding on humans and ripping the occasional hearts out when someone steps out of place.
Like this one, she thinks as she kicks his limp body to the side with the rest of the idiots her family had taken out. There were tons of them; about fifty that she could see. Of course, the dumbass in charge of it all had known that it wouldn't have been easy, if possible at all, to take down the Original family. And while she wished she could stay there and admire the body at her feet and reflect on how much she has change since she had turned and how much she just didn't care, she had to help her family and take out the rest of the fuckers.
And with each heart she ripped from chests and each broken chair leg driven through their chests, she felt more and more power vibrating through her veins, and she finally understood why her husband had been so insistent on gaining so much of it over the past millenium and some, because this feeling, the feeling that nothing could hurt her, that she was a force to be reckoned with, even though she was just as vulnerable as they were- all because she was part of the Original family- no one was going to take that feeling away from her.
Just as she ripped the heart out of the last man, she noticed that Klaus had just cornered what looked like the leader and sole cause of the massacre into the living room of their home (but seriously, who attacks a family in their own home?), and was now dragging him into their basement (AKA the Mikaelson torture room), with his siblings following behind. She followed them downstairs, only to find their prized victim of the day already hanging from the chains that still had the dried blood of their numerous previous occupants on them, with Klaus circling around him like a predator watching his prey; he looked like he was already about to snap, but Caroline didn't want the fucker to get off that easily for all the pain he'd caused them, so she walked over, looking calm and collected but with a fire in her eyes.
She placed a hand onto Klaus' shoulder, and he immediately thought that her humanity was coming through again- that she would tell him that the man wasn't worth the trouble, to just compel him to forget whatever grudge he had against them. She guessed that he hadn't seen her take out the rest of the men, too concerned with getting to this guy. So he was more than surprised when she leaned into his ear and whispered, "Let me have some fun with him." He smirked and put out his hand as if to say, "The floor's all yours".
As soon as she turned and saw the man, an anger like no other filled her. The man who had just been cowering away from Klaus and his siblings now had a smug, 'I can't be beaten by a girl" look on his face. and it pissed her off. it pissed her off to no end how underestimated she was in the vampire community. Even after all these years of showing no mercy to anyone who betrayed them. Now, her angry face was replaced by a smirk, one of the many things she had picked up from the Mikaelsons over the years.
She was going to have a lot of fun tonight.
Knowingly, Rebekah and Elijah sat down next to their brother and watched their sister enact revenge for them. Admittedly, they loved seeing Caroline's torture sessions; don't get them wrong, they love happy, bright, moral Caroline, but sometimes the queen they had raised was just so much better.
Caroline turned to the man hanging from the ceiling and smiled a bright smile, to which he smirked with the little energy he had left.
"What's your name?" she asked him.
"Damien," he coughs out while spitting out blood.
Of course his name was Damien. Entirely arrogant, stubborn, and ignorant enough to have a name that sounded like Damon's. Not that Damon hadn't changed over the years; admittedly, unexpectedly, and unfortunately, he had become one of her closest friends.
"Let's start simple. Damien, I'd like you to give me your daylight ring."
"Burn in hell."
Caroline smirked, "Wrong answer."
In a split second she has his right ring finger in her hand, breaking it harshly before yanking the ring off. Damien cursed in pain but immediately covered it up with a laugh.
"If you think a broken finger and a little sunlight is going to make me regret trying to take you all down, you're terribly mistaken, and anyways, I doubt you could do much harm," he said with a smirk.
Unamused, Caroline walked over to the huge windows on the side of the room and pulled up the curtains, releasing about 100 square feet of pure sweltering sunlight that landed directly on Damien. She was almost certain this basement was built solely with torture purposes in mind. Damien screamed out in pain, the smell of burnt flesh bringing back some painful and suppressed memories, but the adrenaline in the moment overcame any and all nostalgia. She pulled the curtain back down after about 30 seconds, but Damien's relief was short-lived as she broke all the legs off of one of the many wooden chairs in the room.
"I'm going to ask you a couple questions, Damien, and you're going to answer each of them truthfully. Got it?" she asked while slowly walking up to him.
"Fuck you."
Three makeshift stakes left after she plunges one into his stomach.
"Who else helped you organize this little fail of a takedown of yours?"
Another stake was already poised right above his shoulder, waiting for a wrong answer.
"No one," Damien coughed out, "just me and Hayley."
With a scoff, Caroline stabbed the stake into his shoulder before she rolled her eyes and looked over to Klaus. Of course it was Hayley. The little bitch still hadn't gotten over the fact that Klaus had murdered her parents back in New Orleans more than a century ago, and the fact that Tyler had gotten his hands on the last bit of Elena's doppelgänger blood and given her forever to hold a grudge against Klaus didn't help either.
"Anything else I should know Damien?"
He looked at her warily and shook his head before she plastered on a sad face and continued.
"Well that's a pity. Frankly I'm getting bored of you and we've already gotten the answers we need so I'm afraid this is goodbye."
In a second, her hand was buried inside his chest and out came his bloody heart. Klaus was amazed how death barely even fazed her anymore. Not that he was complaining though; it was no secret to anyone that the sight of his wife covered in blood after defending her family- their family- was extremely arousing. So when Caroline basically skipped over to him and straddled him on the chair before pulling him into a searing kiss, Rebekah and Elijah knowingly stood up with a sigh on each of their lips and left the house entirely.
Caroline pulled away from her husband right after his siblings left the house.
"I swear after 100 years they still think we can't last a couple hours without ravishing each other."
"That's because we can't, love."
"Well what can I say, you just do that to me," she responded with a smirk.
Klaus' face takes on a more serious expression.
"I've never seen you like that before."
Caroline smirked, "Family above all is the motto, is it not?"
"That it is. Always and forever."
"Always and forever."