A/N: This is going to deviate from the show's world. Mostly because I love Kol and cannot kill him off. Also this is unbeta'd.

November, 2018

London, England

Klaus grabbed another bottle of scotch from the shelf and set it on top of the bar. He could hear Elijah and Kol arguing upstairs over who was going to watch him tonight. He wasn't a child. He didn't need a babysitter. He hated the way they all seemed to watch his every move, waiting for him to make a mistake. What would they do if he did? He was the Original Hybrid, more powerful than all of them. They could do nothing to him anyways.

Kol's voice started to lose its edge and he could tell Elijah was going to win, leaving Kol to look after him for the night. Kol would most likely try to get him to go to one of the clubs that he frequented at night, looking for easy women to screw and drain. The thought of attending one of Kol's sleazy clubs made him uneasy. He hated being surrounded by so many people.

Klaus drank his scotch slowly, thinking of ways to avoid being roped into being Kol's drinking buddy for the night. Of course, the best solution would be to leave. Immediately.

He set down his glass with barely a clink and snuck out of the house just as quietly. As he walked further from the house through the grounds he could still hear Elijah and Kol talking; neither of them had heard him leave. Klaus made his way towards the city on foot, not bothering to use a car. He needed the distraction of keeping his pace at a somewhat human speed; he couldn't have his thoughts wandering. It had always proven dangerous when that happened.

Soon enough he found just the kind of pub he was looking for. There weren't any flashing neon "open" signs, or advertisements in the window, just a little sign over the door stating the name of the pub. Klaus pushed his way inside the dimly lit pub and took a seat at the bar. He compelled the bartender to give him a bottle of whiskey and ignored the look he received as the bartender handed it over.

His eyes swept across the pub-he liked to know the layout of every place he went-when he saw it in the furthest corner of the room: golden curls.

His insides twisted violently.

Caroline.

He glanced down at the bottle clenched in his fingers then back up at the back of the girl's head.

It couldn't be her.

Could it?

He looked up at the back of that beautiful head of golden hair…she was leaning her head on someone else's shoulder. What was she doing?

"Caroline," he murmured, low enough that the humans in the bar wouldn't be able to hear him, but Caroline would be able to.

He watched her eagerly, waiting for her to spring up and shove the boy off of her…to come running to him with her blinding smile and warm lips. But she didn't move from her spot in the booth and he couldn't help but grasp onto the bar with his free hand, his knuckles turning white.

"Caroline," he repeated, a little louder this time, enough for the bartender to send him a look before turning to his other patrons.

It just had to be her this time.

She didn't turn around or make any sign of acknowledgement that she had heard him.

He couldn't take it; Klaus got up and strode to the little corner booth. "Caroline," he yelled, looking down at the girl's face for the first time…

Brown eyes, dark eyebrows, thin lips and a small scar graced her hairline.

No…no no no no no no no no.

It was her. I swear it was her.

"Woah, mate, sorry but-"

"SHUT UP" Klaus roared, not even glancing at the boy who dared to speak to him.

He couldn't believe he had fooled himself into thinking this disgusting creature was Caroline. She wasn't fit to breathe the same air as Caroline. Caroline was a queen…this…girl was nothing.

Klaus grabbed the girl by her hair, pulling her up and out of the booth for her deception.

Her boyfriend started to protest, but Klaus silenced him with a look of pure rage. He turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. She was scratching at his wrists, trying to get him to let go and whimpering in pain. Klaus was disgusted with her, at himself. He was vaguely aware of the other patrons in the pub yelling at him and getting to their feet. He would deal with them in a moment.

Klaus moved his hands from her hair to her shoulder and the side of her face. Her eyes widened at his movement, and with that, he snapped her neck. He let her body fall to the sticky floor of the pub.

"Meg!" the boy cried, recovering from his frozen state. He slid out of the booth, but before he could reach her, Klaus plunged his hand into his chest and pulled out his heart. How useless. He let the bloodied organ fall to the floor next to the girl's unmoving body.

Before Klaus could move to deal with the other patrons, a vervain-soaked stake was shot into his side and another was shot into his thigh.

Klaus let out a growl and pulled the blood-soaked stakes out of his body and threw them on the ground. Didn't they know who he was? They were going to have to do better than a few vervain stakes. He quickly looked around and noticed the pub's door swinging shut. Coward. He started towards the door to go after his attacker when the screams and cries of the remaining patrons registered. He stopped and looked around the room: a few people were ducking behind the bar for safety, another group was inching towards the door, and others were frozen in their booths and chairs.

Perfect.

The urge to kill was bubbling inside of him dangerously, only heightened by his previous actions. There was no one there to stop him: to run their finger down his chest and press kisses to his cheek, to whisper all the things she wanted to do to him in private to make him forget how much he wanted to tear every person he saw limb from limb.

Stop it. She's gone.

He ran his hand through his hair trying to push away the already fleeting images of her. She couldn't stop him.

One of the girls still in the pub stumbled blindly for the door and tripped over her heels. The small curse that slipped from her mouth brought his attention back to his surroundings. A small group was following the girl towards the door. He stopped them in their tracks, greeting them with a smirk. Before anyone could run in another direction, Klaus snapped all of their necks and left their bodies lying in a pile on the floor. It's not enough.

The need to kill was rushing through his veins at full speed now and he needed a release. He picked up a booth and launched it at the bar, smashing all of the neatly lined bottles and sending them to the floor.

The smell of blood penetrated the air.

Someone cut themselves.

He was reminded of that ever-present ache to feed. And why not? He hadn't fed in a couple of hours.

There was a group of three men cowering underneath a booth at the front of the pub. Klaus made his way towards them, relishing in the way they huddled together when they saw him coming. He easily lifted the table, exposing their hiding spot. He grabbed one of the men and tore into his neck, savoring the warm blood sliding down his throat. When he drank his fill, he threw the body onto the floor. There were still two guys trembling on the floor. Klaus grabbed one and threw him with all his strength, only slightly satisfied when his bones crunched and splintered under the force of hitting the wall. He then turned to the last man. "No, please," the man cried as he desperately tried to scramble backwards, away from Klaus.

Klaus only scoffed at his inane begging. He bent over and pried the man's jaw apart, then ripped out his tongue, blood pouring down the man's face in rivers. Klaus wiped his hands off on his jeans then snapped the man's neck. He wouldn't be begging anymore.

He systematically made his way through the rest of the people scattered throughout the bar, tearing and drinking from them before killing them and moving on. Only one man foolishly tried to dash for the door. Klaus had his heart in his hand before he made it halfway to the door. Klaus stepped through the pools of blood that had gathered on the weathered floor and tried not to maim the dead corpses littering the floor anymore as he made his way towards the bar and the last group of people hiding from him.

Klaus had just rounded the corner of the bar and spied the little group of refugees when the door to the pub was forced open and a voice called out, "Leave any for me, brother?"

"Kol," Klaus said as he turned towards the door where Kol and Elijah stood over the bodies of the people who had tried to leave. "Still some left," he answered and tilted his head towards the floor next to him.

"Excellent," Kol grinned. In a flash he was kneeling on the floor and tearing into the throat of one of the men.

"Kol," Elijah growled, suddenly standing over him.

"Fine, fine," Kol relented as he released the man from his grasp. The man slumped unceremoniously to the floor, clutching at his neck.

Elijah gathered the last three people left alive in the pub, compelled them to forget what had happened and sent them on their way.

After the door was closed behind them, Klaus rounded on his brothers. "How did you find me?"

"It wasn't hard. You've become quite the creature of habit as of late: drinking yourself into oblivion and killing everyone in sight. We simply found our way into the city and then followed the smell of blood," Elijah informed him.

"You do have quite the mess here Niklaus," Kol said as walked out from behind the bar and looked around at damage his brother had inflicted. "I'm thoroughly impressed."

"Kol, remind me to dagger you myself when we return to the house," Elijah mentioned casually.

Kol picked up a severed arm and threw it at Elijah in response. Elijah smoothly moved out of the way, and brushed off the arm of his suit.

"Come Niklaus, let us return home and get you cleaned up. I'll have someone take care of this," Elijah proposed as he took a step towards the door.

Klaus nodded. He could feel the blood drying on his face and hands, crusting and flaking off. He rounded the bar and looked down. There was the girl. Not Caroline. His fingers curled into fists.

He felt his brothers' eyes on him, judging him and the girl lying on the floor before him.

Did they know? Did they have that same brief spark of hope that it was her before they realized they were being ridiculous? No. Neither Kol nor Elijah would ever be so foolish. Only he would fall for the girl who would take his heart with her when she died.

He turned from the girl's body, and stalked out of the pub not sparing a glance at Kol or Elijah as he passed.

A/N: How are you feeling? Disgusted? Sad? Heartbroken? Please drop me a line and let me know.

-Sarabeth