9 Months Ago

"I'll see you tomorrow," the blonde bartender bid farewell to her last customer of the day: Klaus Mikaelson.

He lingered in the doorway, appearing to wish to say something, but hesitating. Months ago, he'd been the weird newcomer who shrouded himself in an air of danger. Fear ensued everywhere he went, but she'd never felt it. A part of her had somehow known he wouldn't hurt her unless provoked and that was not something she'd wanted to do. Always speaking her mind in his presence, an unexpected friendship had slowly built. Now, there was no denying that a spark had been ignited between them. More so, he was slowly opening up to her, allowing her to see the man beneath.

And she liked what she was seeing.

Eyeing him expectantly, the woman was not surprised to find him backing down. The wounds from his past were still too deep.

"As shall I," he nodded and left Rousseau's and her feeling quite disappointed.

Cleaning after drunken idiots was proving harder when she couldn't take her mind off Klaus and whatever it was that he'd held back. Not like she hoping for a confession, but something, anything would have been preferable to those dry three words. That was precisely why she went home later than usual. Having lived for years in New Orleans, walking alone at night wasn't an issue despite the streets in the French Quarter being known as dangerous.

Besides, she wasn't an easy woman to scare.

Not having a better paid job meant that you could not afford an apartment in a residential area. So, she lived in a cramped one-bedroom found at the end of a small alley in which the street lights did not even work anymore. Her neighbors, most likely drug addicts could not care less about it though, and nobody listened to her complaints about fixing it. It was like talking to a stone. Still, something was different from the other nights. She could feel it. And see it soon enough.

Tough it out, it's probably nothing, she willed herself to continue her stride unaffected by the tall man clad in black that had appeared in front of her. Advancing, she expected him to go on his own way, but none of that happened. Instead, he continued to stare at her.

As if he was waiting for her.

No, that was absurd, she shook her head, it was just paranoia speaking. Walking alone in this part of the city had managed to rattle her deeply. Her gut screamed that something did not bode well, but she chose to ignore it. Huge mistake.

Now that she was closer, the blonde could see him better. He appeared young, in his early thirties maybe, had cold, inexpressive black eyes and full lips tugged into a smirk. Maybe it was the evil glint in his orbs or how he nonchalantly reached into his pockets, but a shiver ran down her spine.

Five meters. That was all that separated them.

Holding her breath, she walked past him, breathing out a sigh of relief when he remained unmoving.

Her reprieve was short-lived though, because no sooner had she taken three steps, than a cold hand clamored on her wrist. Suddenly, she was yanked hard and pressed against a wall. The impact knocked out all the air from her lungs, bruises already forming on her back. Both of her arms were held in a vicious grip above her head. Struggling, she concentrated all of her strength into breaking free, but it was impossible.

Heart pounding, she turned her head towards her attacker. Hate was embedded deep into his coal eyes, but that didn't make any sense whatsoever –she had never seen him before.

Something cold was held against her neck and she risked a look. It made her blood run cold.

A knife. Pressed to her skin. Pushing lightly, enough to cause pain.

"Who are you?" She rasped out. "What do you want from me?" Gladly would she give up all of her belongings if that was what the man was after.

A traitorous voice at the back of her head screamed that she couldn't be further from the truth. No answer came, but the blade pushed deeper into her skin, a slim trail of coppery liquid starting to flow. "Please," she begged.

A maniacal laugh was his only response to her imploring. The knife abandoned that spot and rolled down her collar bone. Swiftly it cut off the sleeve of her blouse. The blonde whimpered as frozen fingers touched her.

"That's right," he hissed in her ear. "Beg for me, cry for me. Like she did."

She? Who was he talking about? The woman wanted to ask, but her voice failed her.

Another snicker and her blouse rolled to the pavement after he'd slashed the other sleeve, leaving her in nothing but her bra. She trembled from fear, cold and disgust brought on by hands running up and down her body. Swiveling her head, she tried to go to a comforting place in her mind, to drown out the man's incessant and groping.

Tears had started to roll down her cheeks, but they only served to satisfy him. "Stop," she sobbed. "Don't, please."

Momentarily he listened. His fingers stilled and the knife returned to her throat. "It could be over. One thrust and this will be over." It was clear to her that he was contemplating killing her. The bartender longed to beg for her life, but it would do no good. All she'd accomplish was put an end to her respite. Fury returned to his face. "She didn't have that. She suffered, just like you'll do now."

The blade embedded itself into her abdomen. A shallow cut altogether, but it sent waves of pain. Another cut followed suit. Then another.

He was carving into her as if she was a piece of meat. Dizziness was knocking on her door. If she didn't do anything, death was unavoidable. With her last bit of strength, bravery and resolve, she tried to push him off her, but he didn't budge.

What followed was an even deeper slice across her chest.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her question staunched his assault. It sent him spiraling back to the past, obsidian eyes glossed over. Suffering was clearly on his mind. "So he can feel what I felt."

There was no denying it. He was insane and not making any sense. Even more crazed than before, he stuck the jagged blade into her lower abdomen, twisting it. That far it went, that she could feel the tip of the handle enter her body. Channeling all of his hatred, he pulled it out, leaving a gaping hole behind.

Having finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Without his support, the woman crumbled to the floor, hands clutching at the deepest of her wounds, ignoring the multitude of other lacerations. No longer interested in her, the man took out his cellphone and called someone. It took thirty seconds for that person to answer. She counted to help keep conscious.

"Hello, old friend," he mockingly greeted. His face twisted in a mask of loathing and resentment. "I'd forgotten how wonderful New Orleans was," whoever was on the phone appeared to say something, but her assailant wasn't going to allow it. "And the women here, beautiful, especially the bartenders. You would know, though, wouldn't you? Gorgeous ones always gravitated towards you. And you always ended up destroying them."

Who was he talking to? Pain and weakness were trying to take over, to wrestle her into unconsciousness, but she refused. She would be brave and look him in her eye as life seeped from her body. Defiance was the last thing he'd remember of her, she swore.

"I'm outside her house. I'd hurry if I wanted to see her alive," the warning seemed to amuse him as he cackled before closing the phone.

Help was on the way. All she had to do was hold on and wait. Gathering her wits, the blonde applied pressure on her stomach, desperate to staunch the blood flow, but that was an impossible mission. A miniature pool of burgundy had formed beneath her. Had it not been for the wall's support, she would be swimming in it. She'd expected him to leave, his work now here following the conversation, but he surprised her once again, by staying in place.

Minutes trickled by and all the man did was look at her. Saving her energy, she refused to even look at him. The satisfaction of watching her slip away was not something she would grant him.

Eventually, a black car sped by, the sound of someone hitting the brakes hard reached her. She knew that car all too well. So that was who he had been talking to. The man next to her must have recognized it too, because he tightened his grip on the knife, knuckles white, muscles tense.

None other than Klaus ran out of the car, stopping as soon as he caught sight of her. Immediately he hurried to her, ignoring the raven haired man on her left. "Klaus," she whimpered weakly. He cradled her in his arms, pressing down on her injury. The gesture allowed her to let go, hands dropping to the concrete, resting.

"You will pay for this," he finally addressed the man, mercury irises burning a hole in her attacker. "I'll kill you. Tear you apart limb by limb and watch you bleed out while imploring for mercy."

This version of Klaus was quite frightening. Never before had she seen him so enraged. Still, it seemed not to affect the other man in the slightest. All he did was laugh in Klaus's face.

"You could try," he started to put distance between them. "But then you'd lose her last moments. Your choice: vengeance or love," he pondered briefly. "I'm giving you more than I ever had, Klaus, a chance to say goodbye. I'd take it."

With that, he carelessly turned his back and began to walk away. "Remember," he stopped in his tracks. "Everyone who approaches you with more than terror and disgust will suffer the same as her. Should someone ever look at you with something resembling affection and I'll be there to take them from you. Like I lost her, because of you and your deranged family."

Then he was gone.

Klaus didn't waste a second. He called an ambulance, barking at them to hurry up. "Klaus," she whispered his name again. Green eyes connected with angry grey ones and, like always, she saw straight through his façade. He was hurt, suffering just as much as she was. Or more.

"Don't talk," he chided with gentleness she'd never believed him capable of. "Save your forces. Help is on its way."

"We both know that will do me no good." By now, pain had left her body, giving way to numbness, but didn't tell him. All it would do was help him venture more into despair land. She knew the end was on its way and that was enough. "I just," she had to stop to take a shallow breath. "I just want you to know that this isn't your fault." Klaus shook his head in disapproval. "You can't blame yourself for this, Klaus." Yet she knew that he would.

A weak hand rested on his cheek. "Promise me, Klaus, that you'll find a way to be happy…" she coughed up crimson. Salty, betraying drops began to fall, but the woman didn't have the power to wipe them. "Don't allow me to become a shadow that haunts you for the rest of your life. Promise me that," desperation laced her voice.

"I promise," he reluctantly agreed. That's how she knew that he was aware that she didn't have another tomorrow. Otherwise he would have stood his ground and refused. It made the situation more real for her too.

Her life .All of her plans for the future. They'd all crumbled to the ground. Nothing. There was nothing she'd accomplished. Nothing remarkable that others would remember. She'd forever be the brave bartender who died a pitiful, cowardly death.

"Funny how all of my life I've run from failure and now, at the end, I realize I failed at everything. My family, my brother, at my job and you," a pause was necessary to regain her breath and swallow the metallic taste in her mouth. "I failed you in so many ways."

"Don't ever say that you failed me," he sternly spoke. "You brought me back to life, made me feel more than hatred, made me wish to be more than what my father turned me into. Someone better, worthy of a person like you. Instead, my past mistakes led us here," self-loathing coming through strongly.

"I don't regret a thing. Even if this is the end. My time with you was precious and should I go back in time, I would choose not to change anything. I love you, Klaus Mikaelson," black spots appeared in the corner of her vision. "Everything you said- it wasn't because of me. There's light…" she trembled and more blood rolled down her lips. "Light inside of you, I've seen it. Don't let this extinguish it. Never allow that."

She was so pale. Warm liquid continued to spill through his fingers and with it, her time. Where was the ambulance? Even to someone who wasn't a doctor, it was obvious that she didn't have much time. And she could not go before she knew. "I love you too, Camille," Klaus uttered words he hadn't said in years, stumbling over them. A brief smile graced the woman's face before she closed her eyes. "Don't," he lightly shook her body. "Stay with me! Please, stay with me," he downright begged. "Don't leave," he brokenly wept. "Just hold on a little longer." He wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

Camille tried to listen, opened her eyes to small slits and mustered a weak smile. Stamina had almost completely left her body. Nothing could help her now, she knew it. At least she was at peace to have seen him once more before dying. "The pain is gone now," she reassured him.

His eyes were swimming in unshed tears, but he forced a happy expression on his face. "It will be over soon. You will go to a place where sadness doesn't exist, a place where you can be at peace, Camille. I'll meet you there shortly."

With her last energy, she glanced at him. His face was covered by a heavy fog, but even so, Camille could see that he was crying. "No, not shortly," her voice reached a barely audible level. "Live a long, joyful life. Find someone else, someone better and love them even more than you did me."

Eyelids slipped closed. Two deep struggles for breath. Then it ceased entirely.

Klaus was left hugging an unmoving body. No air was coming in or out. She was gone and he knew it. But he couldn't let go.

A sorrowful scream echoed in the night, disturbing its peace. It left his throat sore, yet felt like not enough to unload all of the anguish inside.

He didn't know how long he stood there, just rocking back and forth, palm caressing Camille's cheeks and praying for a miracle. For God to listen, return to Earth and innocent soul. He would heartily switch place. Of course, nothing happened and he remained in that dark corner, crying for the first time in years. The wail of an ambulance finally reached him. Too late. They were too late. Rage returned to him. He hadn't felt this powerless since his death.

When the doctors arrived, they forcefully pulled her out of him arms and attempted CPR. Pointless, he knew that all too well. Standing up, he watched as her body shook under the compressions, but her eyes remained shut. Half an hour later, the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance, a sheet covering her face. He was asked whether he wanted to accompany her, but he denied. He needed some time away from the world. Forsaking his car, he took a walk to clear his head. Everybody was staring at him and he knew why. Blood had soaked his white shirt, turning it a deep crimson. His hand clutched the matted piece of fabric.

Camille O'Connell.

The only things left of her –blood, memories and an empty promise to be happy- as if that was possible. All that remained for him was vengeance. Against anyone who'd hurt the people close to him. It was a path he'd been running away from. Death brought only death after it, but now he didn't care anymore. Why should he? The ones in his former inner circle hadn't. They'd betrayed him countless times.

By the time he reached his house, he knew one other thing: there was no way that he would allow anyone close again. Enough persons had suffered because of him. Good people who were so much more worthy of this life than he was.

No more.

The heartless monster everyone, even his family, feared was back. When he found Lucien Castle, he would pay for what he did to Camille. And he would find him. There was no rock big enough under which he could crawl.

Of that Klaus was sure.


A/N Firstly, I would like to thank every single one of the people who took the time to add my story to their favourite/follow list and to leave a review. You guys are awesome, you motivate me to bring a new chapter quicker and to strive to make it as good as possible for you. Now, I know I had promised there would be no Camille, but she was necessary for the progress of the story. I promise that she is gone for good, though. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter too, so let me know what you though of it!