Klaus had no other thoughts, save for one objective; find the girls.

Faces, bodies, and muted scenery hurriedly danced past his peripheral vision, barely registering. While in the back of his mind sat his primal killer, which lacked all other moral compass; being fed only the determination not to fail. It could have cared less if the whole bloody beach went up in flames.

But, no, not his darlings, not his son.

If they were harmed in any way, taken away from him into the vastness of forever, he would surely not mentally withstand the backlash. Forced, most certainly, into an insanity of mass proportion, going on a blood binge to rival that of the infamous Lady Bathory, while spiraling unhinged and playing master of hell's playground on earth.

He stopped briefly before two tall glass block dividers: left, the men's quarters, right, women's.

A cocky beach security guard, in white shorts and a hotel Atlantis navy polo shirt, made a motion to step in front of him, shaking his head with a smirk as Klaus went to head towards the symbol bearing a circular head and a triangle skirt.

The man's neck was snapped before his vocal chords could even vibrate, his body collapsing with gravity, like a lifeless mannequin, onto the sand strewn concrete tiles.

Sudden and anxious screams of witnesses standing in line, were like the perfect background music to his ears. These humans, fearing not what they assumed was just a madman. No, he was not of their species. He was more, superior in every way possible, his beast no longer chained in suppression, showing the redness of his eyes and feral bite.

He entered the lavish bathroom, barking a desperate plea, "Bonnie, Bekah!"

Klaus grabbed an unsuspecting woman freshening up her face in the mirror, her short hair in a crimson bob, and her long sarong an offensive shade of orange. She startled, her plain brown eyes wide, as he grunted, throwing her behind him to smash against a far wall, in between the many metal hand dryers, with a crack of her spine. She gurgled out blood, convulsing in a seizure from shock, as he made fast work of kicking open every stall; making other women cry out in the middle of their business as he savagely ripped out their throats; checking everywhere possible he could think of for a device. From ceiling, to floor, to toilet tanks, and trash receptacles. All the while, blood dripped from his mouth and chin, squirted from the necks and dying hearts of the attacked, soaking into his previously clean clothes, while making messy puddles all around him.

They weren't here. Nothing was here. Everything was as it should be, save for the carnage he had just caused. He clutched at his head, practically ripping out his hair from the roots, roaring in madness. Feeling absolutely helpless.

Flashes of his worst fears, their images spurring him even further, cemented the need that was consuming him. Klaus no longer cared for anything else.

If he couldn't find them, and soon. Then there would be no salvation on this island.


"Oh, how darling," Rebekah said wistfully, holding up a stained glass sun catcher in the market they had wandered off to, "this would be perfect in my nephew's nursery, don't you think?"

Bonnie eyed the beautiful bauble and smiled with a head shake, liking the picture of cherubs against a heavenly backdrop. "Yes, I totally agree, that would make a nice accent in my son's room." Her joking tone was just that, as there were no feelings of insecurity anymore of the Originals planning on excluding her. Yet, Bekah's unhappy look, contradicted her excitement of the find. "Why the sad face though?"

The tall blonde handed the trinket to the merchant, telling him to wrap it, while avoiding Bonnie's expectant eyes. She shrugged her shoulders, speaking low, more to herself, "I don't know really. I guess it's just kind of hit me all of the sudden…"

Rebekah turned and went to walk away with her new purchase, lost within herself and whatever was bothering her. Slowly placing one foot in front of the other towards the next stall without finishing. Everything about her having altered. Usually she strut, head held high amongst the clouds, every pore about her exuding the message; I am royalty, make way.

Instead now, Bonnie witnessed something she didn't think the girl was capable of. Depression. "Hey," the witch grabbed her arm, forcing her to face her, "what gives Bekah?"

Bonnie knew this was not something the other girl was used to. How could she be, with the kind of life she had led? Nobody usually cared what she felt or thought. It was obvious in the reluctance she saw in her to share. It was time to change that. After all, Rebekah had been nothing but the greatest support to her these past few days. And surprisingly, Bonnie discovered, (especially in the way that her own emotions were sympathetically getting blue right along with her), their friendship had become more important than that of the ones she thought she had back in Mystic Falls.

"Whatever it is hun, you can trust me. I am here for you, and I promise I will never judge you. Please, tell me. What's wrong?"

Rebekah looked at Bonnie, her lip trembling a bit; swallowing hard in nervousness, trying her best not to cry. "It's just, well I don't know, I guess, even though I'm absolutely stars over the moon for you and Nik," she squeezed Bonnie's hand, afraid she'd be offended, "I can't help but be jealous." Her face looked ashamed.

Suddenly it all made sense to the witch. Like finding that hard to place puzzle piece.

"Oh, Bekah…" Bonnie grabbed her into a fierce hug, the girl stiff at first in her arms, not understanding this reaction, to which she herself, thought would be anger.

"I get it, really I do," she told her sincerely, "you're upset about not being able to have a baby aren't you?"

Rebekah only nodded with a tiny sob into the crook of Bonnie's neck with a heart wrenching sniffle. The dam having cracked with a couple centuries worth of pain. "Shh, it's okay," both girls just held onto each other lost in the moment, and for once, the ancient vampire allowed someone else to see her weakness without wanting to kill them, "what would you think if I told you, that maybe I can find a way?" Bonnie gently pulled back a little and smoothed Bekah's hair away from her face as the girl swiped at her eyes, regaining composure.

"You are serious?"

"Well, I don't want to make any promises that are absolute, but I will do my best to try. Anything is possible, I believe that now, I mean, look at me, look at this." She pointed to her huge round middle, "We flew past the town of normal like five hours ago."

With that, Bekah grinned, agreeing, "Definitely have, you poor thing you, oh shit," she looked down at her little diamond encrusted gold Rolex, "I have a feeling my brother is flying past the town of impatience as we speak, we've gotten a bit sidetracked, about a half hours' worth."

"You're right, we better get back. I so don't want to deal with another Klaus hissy fit."

Just then, Bonnie lost her smile, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach; her son starting to kick like a snare drum.

"What is it?"

Bekah put her own hand on Bonnie's stomach, eyes all concerned, thinking something totally different than what it was.

The witch felt an enormous tug on her bond with the hybrid, and she couldn't be certain, but all of the sudden, Bonnie was experiencing this intense need to go to him. He needed her. And it was bad.

"Rebekah, it's not the baby…"

Her friend caught her drift rather astutely, more than ready to speed back to the beach, but before either could so much as move, a huge explosion rocked the ground; fire, flames, and debris, up in smoke, towards that very direction.

Without even thinking about it, Bonnie cast a protective force field around them.

The only sound to be heard, besides the whole marketplace being in a riotous panic, was that of her own deafening screams… begging, hoping, and praying, that her beloved was not dead.


Alaric watched his well-crafted handiwork from a lifeguard's perch, smirking as he held the binoculars to his cold and calculated face; watching as Klaus carelessly murdered innocents in his rage, knowing the texted threat would throw him off his game. The hunter had also known that the women weren't in any real danger, having gone to do what women always do- shop.

But he needed Niklaus distracted.

The goal wasn't just about driving the abomination of the vampire race into extinction anymore. No, the Original witch had come to him in a dream. His plans now included the preservation of the Bennet girl. As she would give birth to one of the most powerful beings in all creation, and the witches had plans for this child.

He had in fact planted a bomb though, needing to send the hysteria of the masses into a level that would rival any natural disaster. More confusion meant more opportunity.

He swung his body to now view the girls huddled together in the marketplace. They weren't harmed, as he had already known. "Almost time to meet your true fate." He whispered to himself with a laugh, the joke only meant for him anyway.

He now held all the trump cards.

Alaric had the white ash stake. He had Kol daggered in a coffin within his hotel room to use as leverage. He knew Elijah was about to land into the port, traveling by cruise ship not plane, with all the noble intentions of coming to "save" the day, as was his nature. The bitch Rebekah would be an easy mark, snatched right along with Bonnie when he took her.

And when all his ducks were finally in a row. He would have the honor of gloating over Klaus, as everything he cared about, fell around him at his feet.

Yes, sometimes it was good to be so goddamn smart. He literally had to refrain from patting himself on the back, deciding instead, to light a cigarette in satisfaction, as if he'd just finished a sweaty row of sex.

His foot kicked the dead human at his feet, the young man having been his lunch, drained so Alaric could take over his post. Wondering in fact, if he really needed to rush things. It had been awhile since he'd enjoyed a little leisure.

Besides, it was much crueler to let them think they had escaped his intentions.

Fucking teenage drama.

"Consider it a gift." He decreed, pointing the viewing lenses now downwards, scoping out the beach of frightened and curious tourists.

Alaric immediately spotted a petite brunette in a tiny black bikini, with a side tattoo, looking good enough to eat. He felt the life of a different kind of hunger stir within his pants, his appetite more than whet. He licked his lips, his incisors protracted.

"Well, hellooo dinner…"