Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries - the original books were written by L J Smith and the TV show was developed by Julie Plec and Kevin Williamson. This story is the product of their characters and world and my imagination. Any recognisable lines (verbatim or amended) from Vampire Diaries episodes belong to the writers, not me.
Chapter POVs will vary between Klaus, Caroline and Stefan.
Klaus
Klaus Mikaelson eyed the carnage of Stefan Salvatore's latest rampage with some interest.
Rippers were more of a threat to the secrecy of their kind now, in this modern world, than they once were. More often than not, though, they lasted only a handful of months or years before they killed the wrong person and an older vampire destroyed them.
Besides, a Ripper often made the perfect distraction for Mikael whenever Klaus and his siblings needed to make a quick escape.
Not, he thought with a satisfied smile, that he needed to worry about Mikael anymore. The man who had been a blight on his whole life had been dust in the wind for two months now, beyond the reach of any witch who might try and resurrect him.
It had been too quick, of course. Klaus would have much preferred to let the pain linger on for a much longer period of time. But he hadn't been willing to take the chance that Mikael might make a last-minute escape, as he had unfortunately done before.
There was a time and place for the delights of drawn-out tortures and, unfortunately, Mikael's demise had not been one such time.
Now, however, he was free of Mikael, free to let the artist in him admire Stefan's work at leisure.
A whole house party plus servants – nearly twenty-five people in all – gone in just half an hour. It would make a sensational news story, although it would mean they would probably need to move on before Stefan's next proper rampage in order to avoid detection.
Klaus was more than capable of slaughtering his way through a hundred or more humans. Still, it was best to remain a mysterious nightmare, a tale told to scare children, rather than a very real evil that the humans might try and band together to destroy.
Perhaps, when they moved to a different city, he would even be magnanimous and let Bekah out of her coffin. She had more than earned the dagger in her heart for planning to run off with Stefan while Mikael was still at large and a danger to them all, but it had only been a temporary measure, to keep her safe and teach her a lesson.
And if he let her have Stefan then that would probably head off the worst of any tantrums she might otherwise engage in over his decision to dagger her.
The first room held the majority of the bodies, some so mutilated that they were barely recognisable as human, others simply chalk white from being entirely drained of blood, expressions of horror and pain frozen on their faces.
When he moved into the next room, though, he heard the faintest sounds of movement.
Assuming Stefan must still be gorging himself, Klaus decided to insist that the Ripper share. A thousand years of practice had given him near-impeccable control, but the overwhelming scent of blood was making him a little peckish.
However, the scene he found was not the one he expected.
Almost everyone was dead, which was unsurprising, but Stefan was not draining a final victim.
Instead, Stefan was lying down on the floor, twitching in pain due to the half-dozen wooden bullets embedded in his legs and torso.
And the gun that those bullets had obviously come from was held in the hand of a blonde girl that couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen years old. She lay slumped on the floor, her other hand attempting, with what was clearly little success, to stem the flow of blood from a bite on her neck.
An intriguing little thing.
He flashed over and knelt down beside her, tutting softly as he got a closer look at her wound, "that looks nasty, love."
She flinched away from him and out of the corner of his eye he spotted her using what little strength she had left to try and lift the gun once more.
It was the work of barely a second to have the weapon away from her and in pieces. The fear in her eyes was to be expected, but the stubborn glint, and the defiance, was a charming surprise.
"It wouldn't have worked anyway, sweetheart," he told her, "not on me. No point in you wasting your energy on a fruitless endeavour."
"He killed everyone," she whispered, turning to look at Stefan with horror, "he's a monster … and you, you're like him."
His grin was all teeth, "oh love, I'm so much worse than Stefan over there."
Her bravado faltered a little at his words, though she tried to hide it.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, sounding for the first time like the teenage girl she was.
He watched her with a little amusement, "we've only just met, sweetheart. Do you really think that low of me already?"
Her eyes flared with anger, "yes," she muttered fiercely.
Klaus chuckled a little at her defiance, but then he turned serious, "I could let you die, if that's what you want," he murmured quietly to her, "but I'll let you in on a little secret. There's a whole world out there, waiting for you. Great cities and art and music, genuine beauty. And you can have all of it … all you have to do is ask."
He surprised himself with his willingness to talk to this girl, to entice her with thoughts of what time could give her. Usually, he would have simply drained any survivors of Stefan's rampage to satisfy his own hunger, but he felt like something different here.
He wasn't quite sure why, and that … irked him.
"I don't want to die."
The words would have been barely audible to human ears, but to Klaus they were crystal clear.
Her eyes widened as he bit into his arm and offered her his bloody wrist. She was shocked at the clear display of his monster, with no idea how unusual it was for him to offer his blood to anyone, let alone a dying teenage girl he had only just met.
"Drink up, sweetheart," he coaxed.
She hesitated, but after a few moments she took a few tentative sips, coughing and spluttering as she did so.
When she pulled away, he mused over the lovely contrast between her angelic looks and the blood smeared around her mouth.
He could let her heal, compel her and send her away, an unexpected exception to his own personal rule regarding witnesses.
But there was something about this one.
He'd been bored since Mikael's death. This girl, with fire in her eyes and a refusal to show too much fear even to one like him, could be a welcome new project.
"Close your eyes for me, love."
She looked at him a little suspiciously, but his blood was already healing her and she could feel it, making her just a bit more inclined to trust him.
He moved quickly as soon as her eyes were shut, snapping her neck with a flick of his wrist.
She would make a lovely vampire.
He lay her prone body back on the carpeted floor and glanced out of the windows.
Still dark, a few hours until dawn.
Plenty of time to get Stefan up and moving, and the girl back to his home. This place would have to be burned now, to hide the fact that there was one less body than there should be. Then he would have to procure a meal for his new charge's first feed, and arrange to have a daylight ring ready for whenever he felt she was ready to venture outside.
And here he thought this would be just another dull evening.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.
This will be eight chapters. The next chapter should hopefully be up in the next few days.