Epilogue
Corinne was weak and dehydrated by the time she reached Belle Rouge. She ran straight to her grand-mére's shack and burst through the door. Her screams brought some of the slaves running. They found the girl, blood-spattered and hysterical, raving about monsters and death.
"Calm down, chér." One of the other slave girls grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her still. "The master is dead?"
"Yes, Papa … and Maman." Corinne started to cry again as she saw their lifeless bodies.
"Get ahole' of yo'self, gel," the woman said. "You are free. You need to run far away from here."
"Where? Where will I go?" Corinne said weeping.
"I've heard yo' grand-mére talk," she said. "You have family in Virginia. The Bennetts. They live in Mystic Falls."
A few decades later, Klaus and Kol were sipping scotch in their flat in London. "I'm so glad we left the Americas before all that civil war drama began," Kol said. "England is where it's at. Enlightenment, entitlement. We'll fit right in here."
"Yes," Klaus said with a lazy smile. "I'm sure I'll enjoy London especially now that Elijah's not around playing mother. And as soon as Bekah returns, I'll have some company."
"What?" Kol said quizzically.
"Well, you surely won't be any good company locked away in a coffin," Klaus said with a smile. "After all, conversation isn't any fun when it's one-sided.
"What are you talking about, brother?"
"I'm referring to revenge, Kol," Klaus replied. "I believe the saying is, 'it's a dish best served cold'." Before Kol could react, Klaus punched the dagger deep into his chest. As his skin started to desiccate, Kol whispered one word.
"Why?"
Klaus offered the only reply he could. "Sophie." He picked up Kol's body and put him in the coffin he'd prepared in the basement. Then he poured himself another bottle of scotch and pulled out the letter from the top of his bookcase and read it for the hundredth time. It was the last letter Sophie had written him. He'd read them every day for the past few decades as he planned his revenge on his brother. He read the words one last time and then he tossed the words into the fire. It was time to hunt.
Fin.
A/N: I'm considering a possible follow-up to this. Any reviews would be helpful.