Hi guys I am back with a new chapter to this story. I don't know where this story is headed I just know I randomly began writing this. I'm putting this on here to see what you guys think.

This is unbeta'd so please bear with.

Thanks for all the favs and reviews. Really appreciate them.

Vision

The roof was painted white, the walls were beige. The furniture in the room was all deep browns and greys. Her eyes adjusted to the light filtering in the room. She tried to get up but she was bound. Her hands were tied, she realized as she pulled onto the wire ties. Hysteria and panic began building up.

It was happening again. No! No! They couldn't have found her, she had killed them all, not all except one. One who had escaped and might come back for her. But this room was different. Maybe it was someone else. Her heart thundered, its beat a loud pounding inside her head. No! She had to get free! She needed to get free. She was getting confinement was bringing on the memories of the punishers.

A chocked whimper escaped from her lips as she continued to struggle. She didn't want the monster to rise. It was vicious and dark. It made her do things she loathed herself for. But she knew she had to if she wanted to get free.

A sound somewhat like a protest uttered and her claws slinked out with a metal clang.

The ties were stronger than she had anticipated, somewhat similar to the ones they, the punishers had used on her, mystically reinforced. Witches! She had to find her. She needed to find her.

She tugged and the bed post rattled. The noise in the room alerted her captors. A blur around her and a blonde woman with leafy green eyes peaked down on her.

"No use struggling. The ties won't come off." the woman smirked and a dimple in her right cheek flashed. Bringing out a dagger she began playing with the pointy end. "So we can do this the hard way or my way. The hard way might get you off the hook," she paused then smirked, "my way won't."

"Let. me. go!" the arcana or whatever the hell she was growled her eyes flashing all black for a few seconds before turning aqua again.

Rebekah smiled. "Of course!" leaning down she traced the blade over the side of her captive's neck leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

"Sss!" she hissed from pain. Another blur around her and she saw a man had disarmed the woman who had nicked her neck. The man who had fought her last night. The man who had woken mysterious sentiments and disturbing desires. No one had ever defeated her before. No one had escaped unscathed from her claws, no one except him.

With one arm he restrained the woman. He turned and faced her, faced his captive. The line of blood running down her neck, boiled his own. An unknown anger thrashed inside him at seeing her hurt. He twisted his sister's arm. "I told you she is my responsibility Rebekah."

"Oh for heaven's sake you are upset about this? You have never been this touchy before." Rebekah scoffed, her voice a little shaky as he twisted her arm a little more.

"I know. But this time I am. Leave and don't return unless I say so."

She struggled, Klaus wanted to unshackle her. His eyes found hers, a memory surfaced, a flash, a laugh then a violent cry, a violent cry of a girl he felt he knew and just like that it receded.

For that moment both affected by the same memory. She looked away not wanting to experience the familiar unsavory stirrings he evoked.

Rebekah kicked out hitting her brother in his kneecap, his hold loosened. She shrugged off his arm. "Fine have fun with your plaything. But don't come running to me for help when the witches turn against you again."

Rebekah turned and left in a blur.

The room now silent, nothing but their breath sounds audible. He looked at her claws, jutting out of her bound hands.

Soundlessly he approached her. She struggled again, her face troubled, his heart ached.

"Let me go!" she yelled.

"I'll let you out of these ties on one condition. You have to tell me who you are and why you are here?"

"No!"

He now stood close, much close.

"Suit yourself sweetheart." he ran a finger down her cheek, it was softer than it looked. She turned her face away then demanded, "Let me go."

"Then tell me who you are?" he cradled her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face towards him. It bothered him that she would look away from him. "And why have you been killing the witches?"

His breath ghosted over lips, warm and seductive. Heat coiled inside her.

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and wanted to trace it with his tongue, lust and need swirled. The memory flickered again. He pulled back a little.

"Tell me who you are." this time he growled. Annoyed by this strange attraction to her and the visions she awoke.

"Tell me or would gut you like you gutted that pathetic witch last night." he encircled her throat but it was a caress more than it was a punishment.

"I'm not afraid of you." she bit out. He reluctantly admired her guts.

Klaus felt his curiosity growing, some instinct hammered at him that he needed to know. He had to know who she was and why was she having this effect on him.

"What if I say I'll help you. I'll help you look for whatever it is you are here for." her eyes narrowed as if considering his proposition. "I know you are here in search of someone I suppose. I heard you asking her where she was. I don't know who she is but if you tell me I'll help you."

"Why?"

"Why what love?"

The small endearment sounded familiar to her ears.

"Why help me?"

"Because I do what I want. And this is my kingdom."

"And I am ruining the peace?" she asked and he laughed out loud, the sound rich and masculine, it attracted her.

"Peace is farthest from my agenda love. However there are certain other issues that might get a tad easier with your cooperation."

How was it possible that his voice sounded threatening and mesmerising at the same time.

"So what shall it be? Your cooperation or this?" he gestured towards her ties.

She knew this was her only escape. This was her only chance if she wanted to be free. But how could she tell him what she herself wasn't aware of. All she knew about herself was her name. And that is exactly why she was here, to gather information about her existence.

"I am Caroline."

A young girl's voice a loud echo in his head.

"Sveiki, Es esmu Caroline." (Hi, I am Caroline.)

His heart's beat getting louder and louder.

"Tas ir labi. Man nav kodums." (It's okay. I don't bite.)

A nuzzle of a lips, like petals softer than a nascent bud touched his.

The vision felt more real than any reality, more potent than any drug, intoxicating his senses. It rattled him, angered him. He growled and blurred towards her. In a flash he had her by her throat against the wall, breaking her ties.

Anger flashed fiery in those blue orbs, she saw his fangs lengthened. "Who are you?" he roared. Her eyes, bespelling him even as fury had him in its fist.

The flash of that innocent kiss returned. His lips descended on hers, with the intent to punish. Punishment became pleasure before long and he savored. The hand around her throat now caressing, the other cradled her form. She mumbled his name, "Nik." and he knew he was forever lost, lost to the madness she incited, lost to the vulnerability in her eyes.

Hence he surrendered when she moaned his name again cupped his face.

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